


Burning Bridges

by Siriusfanatic



Series: X-Men: Past, Present and Future [11]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of one-sided feels, Charles Xavier fucks up again, Dark Phoenix - Freeform, F/M, Jean Grey is a drama Queen, Jean is my least favorite person but I tried to make her readable, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Raise your hand if you have been personally victimized by Jean Grey's bullshit, Scott is still trying to escape the closet, Sexual Coercion, Telepathic Manipulation, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusfanatic/pseuds/Siriusfanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something has been boiling under the surface of Jean Grey's mind for months. As the school year at Xavier's comes to a close, the underlying tension boils over, and several jarring events bring the X-Men dangerously close to being undone by The Phoenix and the unfortunate woman she's chosen as a host.</p><p>   **Please read notes at the beginning!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **This story again, centers around on-going relationships in this series, mostly around Logan/Remy/Storm, ect. I am not a Jean Grey fan AT ALL, but I did try to give her a fair shake here. If you're reading cause you're a big Jean Grey fan, please be aware of this, and maybe reconsider.
> 
> **This story contains some dubious sexual content, mostly involving Jean and Logan, but nothing graphic or violent. 
> 
> **For any newbies who are reading and haven't read the rest of the series, please remember that a lot of these pairings are poly, and that means I don't want to hear any slut-shaming. They all just have so much love to go around!! 
> 
> **For fanart of my fics and general X-Men goodness, please visit me and my co-author hellsingfanchick over at tumblr!! You can find myself at hectorspearl.tumblr.com or my partner in crime, who helps me plan and plot all these amazing fics and fuels my madness at hellsingfanchick.tumblr.com 
> 
> ***THANKS FOR CONTINUING TO READ MY DERP

 

                By nature, Logan needed very little sleep. His healing factor allowed him to bounce back from the most physically and mentally stressful situations in inhuman amounts of time. So when he found himself on the rare occasion this was not the case, he was often restless.

                The morning was cool, overcast, and smelled of rain and damp earth. He liked the calm of it, even the dampness. It gave everything that smell of freshness and renewal.

                He slurped the strong black coffee he had made upon rising and leaned on the porch rail, watching the breeze ripple the otherwise still, murky blue waters of the lake that stretched out in front of him.  He was glad Remy had talked him into spending more time at Xavier’s lake house, which had been standing empty for some time, and was slowly beginning taken over by disrepair and neglect. Charles hadn’t had time for it, and had honestly ignored its presence altogether since his accident.

                Logan was happy to put his building skills to use, and even happier to have someplace set apart from the bustle of the mansion and its students, for himself and his partners to reconnect with themselves and with each other.

                Storm came from around the corner of the wide screened porch, wearing her pajamas—shorts and a tank top. She took up a spot next to him against the rail and leaned over to kiss his bristly cheek, making the smaller man smile.

                She ran her hand across his back in a comforting gesture, but also to feel how tense his muscles were. This had become her tell, since she lacked Remy’s ability to discern moods even when they were masked. Logan was tight as usual, but not overly so.

                “Glad you’re awake,” she said, huddling next to him, head leaned against his.

                “That makes one of us,” he mumbled with a nod, adding a small smirk afterwards. He gripped her hand in his and kissed it lightly. “Wanted to say hi and bye before you went off with Hank and the others for the day.”

                “You sure you won’t come on the hike with us? It’s only an overnight. Nothing a true woodsman like yourself shouldn’t be able to handle.”

                Logan rolled his eyes. “And lug a bunch of snarky teens through twenty-five acres, teaching them about poison ivy? Sorry, darlin’, I ain’t got the patience.”

                She nodded and squeezed his hand lovingly, “I know.”

                She glanced at clock on the wall behind her and gave a little sigh. “Tell me what I miss, okay?” she asked, turning to give him another peck on the cheek, only to have Logan turn and catch her lips, pulling in her in close for a moment.

                “I’m sure there won’t be much to report back about,” he answered, once they parted, grinning at the faint flush in her dark cheeks. “Just make sure Hank doesn’t get mistaken for a bear while you’re out there.”

                She pulled away reluctantly and went to dress, leaving him on his own again. The rain continued to make little ripples across the water’s surface and it dribble to earth. He moved from the porch and back into the house, dropping his mug off at the sink and padded his way upstairs to the loft bedroom that he shared with his partners. The steps were short and steep, and Logan grabbed the rail to balance his heavy frame as he came up into the secluded room.

                The walls were narrowed up into a slant, creating the triangular back of the house, and there were two rectangular windows upon the right side of the slanted ceiling to allow for extra light. The walls of course were wood paneling, dark and knotted, and the place trapped heat and smells in close around him, making it feel intimate and cloistered in its dimmed state.

                Remy was still asleep in bed, always lulled by the sound of rain or any kind of water really. He managed to move himself to the center of the king size bed the three shared upon occasion (there were two other bedrooms in the house as well), long legs twisted up in the sheets and arms reaching towards empty spaces once occupied by warm bodies.

                Logan crawled in behind him and nuzzled in close, face buried between the man’s shoulder blades, kissing his spine. Remy was out, and didn’t so much as sigh or shift as the man made himself comfortable, content to catch a few more hours of peace and quiet before returning to his duties at the school.

                Classes were near and end, the students who would be returning home for the summer were restless to be on their way. The others who were permanent residents—even more so.  Logan had been put in charge of maintaining training schedules and being a glorified hall monitor in his down time. When of course, some imminent crisis wasn’t calling for him to dawn the blue and gold and go carve up some Mutant hating bad guys.

                Though he grumbled endlessly about it, he didn’t mind stepping in…

                Especially because the man who usually took over these roles was already running on fumes and less. Scott Summers was getting married in less than two weeks…and every inch of him showed it in the worst way.

                Logan couldn’t believe they were going through with it. Not after…everything. It was going to end in heartache, embarrassment and disaster. For both bride and groom. But neither one of them seemed to be ready to end their game of romantic chicken.

                Wolverine tried to put it all out of his head—it wasn’t his place. But he couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for the way the seemingly perfect relationship of Scott and Jean had soured.

                He grunted his frustration and buried his face closer against Remy’s sleep-warm skin, shutting his eyes tight, forcing the thoughts away. He had to remind himself that although he hadn’t done anything to discourage the attentions of either of them in the beginning, he had certainly never intended the mess that had ensued. He refused to take responsibility for their lack of control.

                After a time, the warmth and familiar smell of his lover started to quiet and settle him again, and he found himself drifting, not even aware of Ororo’s departure from the house itself.

                Sleep overtook him, but rather than finding himself dropped into a broken dream or some patch-work semblance of a memory reconstructed as such, he felt an odd sort of pull, like he was being swept away somewhere.

                The sensation was odd, but not unpleasant. The void reordered itself around him and he was standing in a small, one room cabin that felt almost suspiciously familiar and real. It was autumn, the sky outside was bright and hazy through the tiny windows that were etched between the thick cut logs that made up the walls.

                This place was old…old as he was.

                “Logan!”

                A voice called him from outside. He felt himself move, stiffly towards the sound, fumbling awkwardly towards the door. Outside, there was green grass and rolling hills and trees…so many trees. Oaks and maples that made colorful arcs in their blazing autumn colors, slowly receding back deeper, darker forests.

                There was a woman, standing just at the edge of a dirt path, hanging laundry on the line, hair and dress rippling in the wind. She had blankets in her hand, wrestling to pin them to string before they blew away. Logan couldn’t make out her face, though everything else was in sharp focus.

                “Logan! Over here! Give me a hand would you please?”

                “Rose?”

                The name felt old, rusty and weighty on his tongue. Rose. Rose…

                He knew her, of course. Part of him at least. Her name had risen in his mind now and again, like a shell being washed ashore, but it was always dragged back out again before he could get a firm grasp on it.

                This place he stood in was not a dream, but the remains of reality he once knew. This was not a dream, at least not fully. And he felt a sense of dread inside him at this idea. What was happening?

                “Logan! Please I need you!” the woman called more urgently.

                He moved hesitantly towards her, but her face still remained just out of view, obscured by wind-blown scarlet hair.

                He felt a strange buzzing ache at the base of his skull that made him groan and shake his head. This felt off, it felt…distorted. But he didn’t know why.

                She was real, and right there in front of him. A piece of that broken past, lost to him again and again thanks to Stryker and Weapon X. But it had come back. She had come back. All he had to do was reach out and grab her and everything would be okay.

                “What are you waiting for?” the woman in front of him asked, finally pulling back her wild hair to allow him a better glimpse. Her eyes were green and her face pale and faintly freckled…she was beautiful. But it was wrong somehow…

                She held out her hand.

                Logan studied it, and the buzzing feeling intensified. He took a step back, feeling uncertain.

                “Don’t leave me behind again.” She said.

                He turned his head away sharply, feeling like the world around him, which had felt so real and grounded a moment again, was starting to come unhinged.

                Something touched his face, a firm hand with long fingers. “I’ve got you.”

               

                His eyes came open, and the landscape had changed. The woman was gone, so were the trees and the leaves and the old cabin. There was just the loft, his bed, and Remy LeBeau’s loving but concerned expression looking back at him.

                “Dere you are, you old hound. All that whimpering in your sleep was enough to raise de dead. You alright now?”

                Wolverine took a moment to ground himself, to breathe and get his bearings. “Sorry, darlin’…” he mumbled quietly, finding the nook of Gambit’s neck and shoulder to bury his head against, “Bad dream I guess.”

                Gambit nodded and kissed his hair, doing his best to ease and comfort the man in his arms, while his empathic abilities were picking up the fading confusion and distress within him. “Well, we ain’t no stranger to dose are we, cher?”

                Logan chuckled and kissed his skin, “Let’s go back to bed.”

                Remy twisted away, glancing at the clock, “Non, sorry, but de clock tells me we are both past due for makin’ appearance and actin’ respectable.”

                His lover groaned grumpily and shook his head. “What’re they gonna do if we just don’t show up, huh? Hand out tardy slips?”

                Remy laughed and sat up, stretching and pushing his hair to one side, “I expect somet’ing more annoying…like making us supervise lunch time.” He shuddered. “De amount of hormones and angst comin’ off dat crowd of kids is enough to knock dis Cajun off his feet and send him crawlin’ off to Library time wit Hank.”

                “Yer right. Shouldn’t take any chances.” Logan nodded, kicking off the blankets and casting about for a fresh shirt.

                Remy was doing the same when he paused. “Who’s Rose?” he asked.

                Logan stilled for a moment. “What?”

                “De woman you were callin’ for in your sleep. Never heard you mention her before. She someone special, non?”

                The feral didn’t answer, he just stood there, as if completely thrown off guard by this question. Remy turned again in concern. “Alright, cher, you beginning to make me worry. You got dat lost look in your eyes…somet’ing wrong?”

                Logan looked away, shaking off his lover’s concern like dust. “Nah. Name’s as much a mystery to you as it is to me, Cajun.”

                Gambit shrugged, but knew that Logan was lying, or avoiding the question, at least in some regard. It all felt very hazy, muddled. He could sense the growing anxiety in his lover, but knew pushing the subject would only increase his resistance. Logan had to make his own terms with divulging his secrets, and Remy, who had many secrets of his own, respected that.

                “T’ink dere’s any chance we can eat before diving into the fray?”

                “If frozen waffles interest you, then sure.”

                Gambit made the same distasteful face he always did when of frozen breakfast food was mentioned, and Logan laughed. “You know you’re awfully picky for someone who lived on scraps and bad diner food for a good chunk of their life. I thought beggars couldn’t be choosers?”

                “Beggars, oui. But I am a thief. And thieves have _tastes_.” He leaned over and stole a kiss from Wolverine’s lips that quickly turned into something deeper, more hungry and loving. Logan’s anxiety started to ebb as result.

                “I’ll see if I can’t snag Jubilee for a quick pastry run.”

                “She has class.”

                “She can do her homework while I drive.”

                The dark haired man rolled his eyes, “You’re a bad influence on her.”

                “No more so den you,” Gambit replied.

 

**

 

                The school was alive with activity, but of a slightly different nature than its norm hustle and bustle of students navigating between classrooms and team members rushing here and there. There was a sort of anxious buzz in the air, though it was one of excited anticipation rather than nervous apprehension.

                The school year for Xavier’s was drawing to a close, and that meant that classes were thinning out, replaced by retreats and more relaxed schedules. Some students were returning home for the summer as well, while others who were year-round boarders, were looking forward to the freedom the summer months allotted them.

                It was not difficult to spot Hank, who stood just off the grand foyer, clip board in hand, wearing khaki shorts and a short sleeve oxford shirt over his large, furry blue frame, as he counted out duffle bags that had been lined up against the wall.

                Logan made his way over, glancing at the list in the man’s thick hands, which was a list of names of students who would be attending the end of year camp out. Logan scoffed to himself, finally catching Hank’s attention.

                The larger Mutant adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, blushing faintly at how close Logan was standing to him without his noticing. “It’s very rude to peer over one’s shoulder, you know.” He chided half-heartedly.

                Logan shrugged, “Curiosity over manners, Beasty,” he answered. “You really sure you and Stormy want to be takin’ this lot out into the woods for the night?”

                “You’re welcome to come if you if think we’ll need help.” Hank offered, attempting to keep his tone neutral, but there was no denying the swell of hopefulness he felt in his gut. He had been disappointed when Ororo had informed him Logan would not be attending. He was hoping for a chance to talk…a chance that seemed constantly just out of reach.

                Logan looked away, patting him briefly on the back. “Naw. You don’t need my help, not with Ro and Scooter headed out with you.”

                “Scott won’t be attending this year,” Hank added. “The wedding is only two weeks away, there’s still a great deal of preparations…I think his focus needs to lie there, don’t you think?”

                Logan shrugged indifferently.

                They stood awkwardly together for a moment, knowing these little interactions should come easier, more naturally, but finding them a murky to navigate as wading through cold clay.

                Bobby appeared around the corner then, arms full of cook-out supplies. “Hey! Just the two big strong guys I was looking for!” he grinned, attempting to adjust the unbalanced boxes in his hands. He pushed a few into Logan’s unsuspecting arms, and allowed Beast to catch the toppling hot dog skewers from the top of the pile.

                “Whew! Thanks guys. I was, uh, trying to save myself a few trips outside but I—“

                “Over estimated yourself,” Hank finished with an understanding smile. “I can’t say this is the first time, Bobby.”

                The young blonde grinned sheepishly. “Logan, you mind giving me a hand if you’re not uh…” he looked awkwardly at Hank, “too busy? Professor’s put me in charge of the senior bonfire and um…fire is not my specialty.” He looked down at the faintly frosted over boxes and his own blue tinged fingers. “Oopsie.”

                Logan rolled his eyes with a faint sigh, “Sure kid, I’ll give ya a hand. Later Hank,”

                McCoy nodded, and the pair excused themselves quickly, shuffling the boxes from the foyer, through the hall and out onto the west lawn that ran alongside the lake, where a fire pit was slowly being put together.

                The rain had stopped, but the ground was still damp beneath their feet. Logan would have questioned the plausibility of an actual camp fire for later that day given such conditions, were not for the fact that he was living among super powered children who were able to make such mundane inconveniences a non-issue.

                “So, you’re not going on the wilderness hike? That’s cool, that means you can stay here and hang with the cool kids.” Bobby chuckled as they sat down to unload the supplies.

                “Meaning you, Rogue, Kitty, and the blue elf I suppose?” he grunted good naturedly.

                “Of course! And Jubilee, even though she’s not exactly part of the senior crew here…IIlyana and Pitor too.”

                “A regular Breakfast Club you bunch are,” he chuckled, then looked up catching glimpse of someone watching him from across the lawn from the shadow of an oak. Jean stood there, watching him from the shade, red hair confined in a braid. She didn’t look as polished as Logan was used to seeing her and something about her smell continued to puzzle his senses.

                _“Got something you wanna say, sweetheart?”_

                _“Can we talk?”_

                “That depends.”

                Bobby looked up, not realizing Logan wasn’t talking to him. “Huh?”

                Wolverine discarded his load with a quick nod to the man and made his way across the lawn towards the woman who stood watching them. Bobby watched tensely for a moment, and then went back to his task.

                Logan stopped a few feet from the woman, arms folded, defenses up. “Hey, Jeanie,” he greeted quietly. “What can I help you with?”

                She gave him that same slightly wistful smile she had when he’d first come here. “I just…wanted to say hello.” She answered, somewhat awkwardly. But the projection of nervousness wasn’t exactly genuine. Logan couldn’t smell apprehension or fear on the woman at all. Her skittishness was an act, masking something else.

                “Maybe saying hi to me isn’t so important right now. Bride-to-be is always busy, ain’t she?” he asked, trying not to sound mean or off-putting. No matter how much Jean put him through at times, he found he could never be unkind to her. And that was a rare thing indeed.

                Jean’s defenses seemed up as well now, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “About the wedding, Logan…”

                “I can’t talk to you about this.”

                “Why not?”

                “You know why.” He answered, looking at her more sternly before.  “Let it lie, Jeanie. I’ve done my part here, I’ve been trying to give you and Scott space. I don’t want any more trouble between us. Any of us. If I could forget any of it happened, or undo it, I would. But I ain’t got that power, darlin’.”

                “I’m not angry with you for what happened with Scott.” She said then, surprising them both. It was the first time she had ever spoken about the affair, or even acknowledged it. “I know it was…just a mistake.”

                “Yeah. It was.”

                “I don’t…want anymore mistakes.”

                Here he paused, feeling a tightness in his chest as she looked at him with those bright green eyes. He could tell what she wanted, what she felt. It was powerful, overwhelming, her infatuation, her desire, even the underlying sense of desperation.

                Logan shook it off, taking a breath, feeling as though he had been stifled for moment. “Jean…no. Don’t do this to Scott again…”

                “He doesn’t love me.”

                “He loves you more than anyone, what are you—“

                “The wedding is off, Logan.” She said suddenly, tersely, and he felt a spark from her, a kind of heat like he was standing too close to an open flame. Her eyes were bright, but not with tears. The green seemed to shimmer and shift from emerald to bright, molten gold. But it faded so quickly that Wolverine wasn’t sure if it had been real, or some trick of the light.

                The air between them seemed ashen and hot for a moment in the silence, and finally Logan spoke again, “I’m sorry to hear that. But maybe it’s for the best. All things considered.”

                She broke then and started to cry, hands to her face. He startled, and when she started to sink towards the ground he reached out and caught her, hugging her tight. The distress was genuine. The tears were quite real. He let her sob for a moment, let her make the unpleasant, painful sounds of loss, regret and confusion. She needed to feel it, to let it out. She had been holding it in for far longer than should have been allowed.

                “I know it probably feels like it, but it ain’t the end of the world,” he offered quietly. “Just cause it didn’t go as planned…don’t mean you can’t make things right. Come on, girl…you’ll be okay.”

                He hated to hear her cry. Her nails dug into his back and shoulders and her whole frame shook with the effort to reign herself back in. He held her a little tighter, feeling the need to protect and hold her together, even if it wasn’t his place. He was still her friend, or at least he wanted to be.

                “I’m sorry,” she mumbled after a minute. “I’m sorry, it just sort of…it just hit me I guess.”

                “S’alright, red.” He nodded, trying to steady her, wiping her cheeks with his sleeve.

                She smiled and caught his hand against hers, keeping it against her cheek. “I want you to know it wasn’t your fault. What happened between you and him…it would have happened anyway. Scott is still learning about himself, and so I am.”

               

                The woman looked up then as if she had heard someone calling her and then sighed. “The Professor needs me.”

 He nodded. “I’m sorry, Jeanie. Really I am.”

                “Don’t be. We’ll both be fine.” She smiled, a little too brightly considering her state just a few seconds ago and kissed his hand, and then his cheek, a little too close to his lips. Logan felt a hot flash that rippled through him, down to his bones and made his head spin for a moment.

                She turned then and walked away, seeming lighter than she had before. Logan stood blinking after her until he felt Bobby’s cool hand on his shoulder. “Hey man, you okay? What was that about?”

                Logan stood blinking after the girl, unsure how to answer. Instead he just frowned, and turned, ruffling Bobby’s hair. “Mind yer business, pup.”

 

**

 

                They paused at the red light, top of the car down, wind in their hair, sun in their eyes. The day’s earlier clouds had all moved on, revealing bright blue skies and hot sunshine.  Jubilee grinned, reclining further in the front seat, her sneakers kicked up on the dashboard, the large boxes of donuts still cradled in her lap as she tipped her face towards the sunlight.

                “Now this is how I like to start my mornings,” she began with a satisfied sigh. Next to her in the driver’s seat, Remy chuckled and nodded.

                “You ain’t wrong, petite. Looks like it’s gonna be a perfect day.”

                “Are you and Wolvie comin’ to the senior bonfire tonight? Or are you stuck going on that lame wilderness retreat?”

                “My plans are mine, but I suppose we’ll probably be stayin’ close to home dis evening. And I wouldn’t laugh about dat wilderness stuff too much if I was you, petite. Survival skills ain’t nothin’ to laugh at. Least up here de land is dry, try hikin’ through the bayou sometime.”

                She shook her head, “Ew, no thanks. Too many bugs, ugh!”

                “Bugs only take a little blood. Gators are what ya gotta look out for,” he teased, reaching across the seat to tickle her before they were off again.

                “Gambit! I’m not cut out for that kind of stuff. I’m a California girl, a mall baby…the only thing I’m good at navigating through is a half-off sale.”

                “And dat’s why Xavier’s is so good for you.”

                “Yeah, I guess.” She resigned. “I miss you guys since you moved into the lake house…I thought you were happy in the attic with Ororo?”

                “We were, but a little space never hurt anyone. And Ro got more responsibilities den Logan or myself…lake house just made sense, really. We all got room to spread out a bit, do our own thing, and be comfortable together.”  He glanced at her out of the corner of his bright red and black eyes, “And don’ have to worry about anyone ease droppin’.”

                She blushed faintly. “That was one time.”

                “Liar liar…”

                “Okay, okay, I get it! I can’t help if I have a healthy curiosity!” She snuck a pink sprinkled donut from the box and took a hefty bite from it.

                “I thought maybe he and Scott were getting into fights again.”

                Remy raised an eyebrow as he turned off the main road away from Salem Center and back towards the mansion. “Oh?”

                “I mean, I dunno. Cyclops has been looking…rough lately.  Like he’s been sleepin’ on the couch every night or not sleepin’ at all.  And he’s a nightmare during class and training…when he shows up at all.”

                This did indeed sound concerning. “You mention dis to anyone else?”

                “Well, it hasn’t exactly been a secret has it?”

                Remy didn’t answer and continued to drive on silently for another few minutes as they passed the woods and large empty fields that made up the land surrounding the Xavier Institute, giving them ample space between them and the rest of the town.

                “Well, he is a man about to take his vows. Sometime de pressure gets to people…”

                “Yeah, you’re right. Jean’s been just as bad, or so Kitty says. She’s been spending all her time with the Professor lately, I almost never see her at all.”

                “Dey have important work to do, cherie.”

                “Well I know, but why is it all so secret?”

                They finally pulled up to the gates of the mansion and Remy entered the code to allow them access, rolling up the long driveway towards the garage. “Maybe it’s not for us to know.” He said, though the words were half-hearted in his mouth.

                As they made to exit the car, both felt a sudden intense rise in the temperature around them, making the air around them hot and ashy, as though the lingering moisture in the air was suddenly evaporated into nothing.

                Jubilee fanned herself miserably, shedding her jacket and looking up at the bright sunlight above them as if wondering if it had somehow moved closer. “Wow, did it just get forty degrees hotter in here?”

                Gambit felt the scorch of it as well, noting that even the flowers around them seemed to suddenly wilt. But his attention was pulled to another sense then; a great overwhelming feeling of frustration.

                _“I keep telling you that I **can’t**!!”_

                Remy winced, the empathic feeling overwhelming him as he heard Jean’s voice echoing through it and into his mind. He gripped the car door to steady himself and found the metal hot to the touch.

                “Hey, you okay?” Jubilee asked worriedly.

                “Think we best get inside, petite.” He answered, pushing the feeling away and starting off at a trot towards the door, needing to escape the heat and find the source of the distress.

                Once inside, he made towards the first corridor, following the boiling feeling of irritation and helplessness to its source. Jubilee followed at his coattails, the donuts left forgotten on side table outside Xavier’s office door.

                “Oh my God why is it so hot?” the girl next to him panted, sweat forming across her skin even though she had now shed herself down to her crop top and short. Even her dark hair had lost some of its lift and was sticking to her neck and forehead.

                Gambit felt the heat prickling his skin as well, but his focus was elsewhere. He looked at Xavier’s doorknob and noted that it was actually starting to glow hotly, and the door creaked and groaned, the wood splintering, smoking faintly.

                “Jean! Jean, center yourself! Come on now, you can do this! I know you can! You must!”

                “No I can’t!”

                “Don’t let it take over you, Jean! Jean! JEAN!”

                Remy pushed Jubilee back as he crashed into the door, jarring it on its hinges before kicking it again and sending it flying open with a pop.

                The man rushed in, already reaching for his cards. The scene inside was jarring, distorted and strange. Xavier had toppled in his chair, which seemed to have melted partially, and was sprawled on the carpet next to where Jean Grey was standing, seeming to levitate a few inches from the floor. The air around her was shimmering and hot like a mirage, but Remy didn’t miss the way everything within a foot of her seemed charred and blackened, faintly smoldering as if it had been set on fire.

                The woman turned to look at him, startled by his sudden entry.  She dropped to the ground abruptly, falling immediately to her knees, seeming winded and dazed. There was a burst of air that rushed forth as she dropped, and both Remy and Jubilee felt an odd rush, as if something ghosted past them, anxious for escape.

                With it went the intense heat that had a moment ago perforated the room. It was a stark a difference as stepping from scorching sun into dark cool shade.

                For a moment, no one spoke at all, the four just lingering there in the silence, two uncertain that what they had just witnessed was even real.

                “It’s—it’s alright everyone,” Charles panted then, pushing himself up into a sitting position then with the help of a footstool.

                His voice shook everyone from their state of shock and Remy moved forward, bending to help him as Jubilee moved next to Jean.

                “Hey, are you okay?” the girl asked. The red-haired woman wilted for a moment against her shoulder, looking confused and nervous.

                “Yeah, I’m…I’m fine now.”

                “Looks like a training exercise went wrong,” Remy added, picking Charles up and moving him into a chair where he would be more comfortable.

                “Thank you, Remy.”

                “Are you hurt, Professor? Maybe I should—“ Remy had barely finished the thought before they heard the familiar thump of Hank’s heavy feet rushing across the wooden floors, just a second before his large blue figured filled up the damaged door frame.

                “Stars and garters! What happened in here!?” He cried, looking around in shock at the damaged office and the shaken figures inside.  “Charles, Jean—is everyone alright?””

                “It’s alright, Hank, we are all unharmed.” He looked pensively to Jean, who still looked pale and woozy next to Jubilee on the floor.

                “She feels like she’s got a major fever. Ya didn’t bring an ice pack with you did ya?” Jubilee asked. Hank shook his head and moved forward, pressing a palm to Jean’s forehead and quickly checking her pulse, which was rapid as though she had just been running hard.

                “I think maybe you should come lie down in the infirmary,” he offered.

                To their surprise then, Jean stood up on her own, “I’m fine.” She insisted. “I don’t need to lie down, I just…need some air.”

                 Hank looked dubiously from her to Charles, but the Professor’s eyes were locked on the green eyed woman’s. “Very well. But promise you’ll let us know if—“

                “I’ve got it handled, Professor. Thank you.” She interjected, voice a bit too composed. She turned and excused herself hurriedly from the group.

                “Wow.” Jubilee blinked. “I’ve never seen Jean get so shaken up like that.”

                “Indeed,” Hank answered quietly. “Jubilee, don’t you have somewhere you should be?”

                The girl blinked between the three men, who obviously were waiting for her to leave the room. She frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “Really? You know, I thought I was part of this team too. Which means _I_ should be let it on some of these big serious discussions once in awhile!”

                “You’re absolutely right,” Hank nodded, putting a hand behind her back and ushering her out the door, “and we promise we’ll make it up to later. But if you don’t leave now, I promise you those donuts will nothing but potential cavities on someone else’s teeth.”

                She stomped off, complaining and muttering to herself. Hank watched to make sure she was completely out of ear shot before turning back to the other X-Men, his gazing moving nervously from Charles to Gambit.

                “She’s getting worse.”

                Charles gave his colleague a look that meant discretion and then turned his attentions to Gambit. “Remy…what exactly did you see just now?”

                The Cajun hesitated. “A whole lot of weirdness.” He answered. He glanced from the Professor to Hank, “And a glimpse of somet’ing you two obviously want to keep under wraps.”

                Hank tensed, his expression changing to one of nervous guilt. “It isn’t like that. Jean’s powers have been undergoing what I can only describe as a secondary mutation…they’ve been gaining in strength rapidly over the last few months.”

                “I’ve been working intensely with her to try to help her manage, but…as you can see…the results are not always favorable.”

                Gambit nodded quietly in understanding.

                “You may share your feelings, Gambit,” Xavier offered then. “Your input is valued here. You sensed something from Jean’s powers…what was it?”

                Remy shrugged, “Hard to ‘splain, Professor. Just know Miss Jean…she’s feeling mighty angry right now. Frustrated and lost. Like someone who’s been pent up too long. I know what that feels like.” He glanced at the broken door frame. “Sorry ‘bout dat.”

                “Never mind it,” the older man answered. “Thank you for assistance.”

                Gambit took this cue to excuse himself, not looking back as he left the room, though he felt both pairs of eyes following him, and felt the faint buzz of Xavier’s telepathic presence just outside his consciousness. It made his insides tighten suddenly, and he wished then that he and Logan were in fact heading out with Storm and the others for the weekend.  Whatever drama he had just stepped into, he knew he wanted no part of it. The Professor seemed to feel the same way.

                Half way down the hall, he heard Beast following after him. “Remy,” he called. “Remy, please wait—“

                The Cajun turned, not expecting Hank to catch up to him that quickly and found himself colliding with the thick blanket of blue fur that was stretched across the broader man’s muscles. “Oof!”

                Knocked off his feet, Remy stumbled, only to have Hank reach and catch him gracefully. The two men blinked up at each other from the awkward, and intimate position, both wide eyed and faintly flushed.

                “Ya know, I sometimes forget how light you can be on dose paws of yours, Henri.” Remy chuckled as the bigger man helped to right him again.

                “Good reflexes are at least some compensation for my otherwise cumbersome form.” Beast answered, folding his hands quickly behind his back. He cleared his throat quietly and began again, “What I wanted to say was—“

                “No need, mon ami. I understand—the Professor has his reasons for how he handles t’ings. Wit a reputation like his, hard to argue wit results, I suppose.”

                “But that’s exactly what I don’t want you believing,” Hank corrected, “I know at times Charles can come off as…unapproachable. But he wants only the best for us, all of us. Jean perhaps especially. She’s always been a special case, poor Jean. Her powers manifested so young.”

                “I’ve no doubt dat his heart is in de right place,” the auburn haired man amended. “Just sayin’ dat I know what it’s like to be viewed as…a special project. And we all noticed dat ever since a certain little body-swapping Spider wandered into our midsts a little while back, dat she’s been missing from the roster. Maybe Charles is tryin’ to hold on too tight, ‘sall I’m saying.”

                “Did you get that feeling from Jean?”

                Remy shrugged. “It ain’t no secret dat she and I never really got off on de right foot, ya know. I always sense some hostility comin’ from her. But dis was different, way more intense. Had de feeling like...she didn’t _want_ to control whatever it was that overtook her in dere.”

                A grim look came over Hank’s face then, and Remy felt a pang of dread from him.

                “Hank?” the Cajun asked worriedly. He slipped two of his fingers into Beast’s thick hand and felt a faint tremor there. “What is it?”

                Beast looked down at him, and Remy could tell he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it. “I think perhaps we should let this matter lie for now. Give Jean a moment to collect herself without our hovering…”

                He looked at his watch and sighed heavily, “I was supposed to meet Ororo at the camp site by now. Dammit.”

                Remy shrugged again, “Well, I t’ink you still have time to catch dem, mon ami.”  He turned with a little wave and continued off down the hallway, leaving Hank watching after him, feeling muddled and confused about their interaction.

 

**

                As the day drew on, the students drifted more and more from the cloistered halls of the mansion out onto the grounds. There was music playing from various stations that had been set up across the lawn, reaching all the way from the topiary gardens by the house all the way down to the gate house.

                Food was being served, the usual picnic fare, and students and staff alike were gathered in little groups, starting games of volleyball and other sports. 

                Looking up from the fire pit where he had been standing, stoking the large roaring flame that was now growing from the center, Logan thought that the place looked more like a college campus than a safe-house and underground base for a bunch of Mutants.

                The illusion was almost too tempting to resist, the normalcy and calm of it. He’d gone too many years between such things not pause and admire it when he could.

                He was distracted only when he felt Gambit lean over his shoulder and kiss his neck softly, slipping an arm around his chest and burrowing his long fingers beneath the open edges of his flannel shirt, brushing across the thread bare tank top underneath. Logan smiled warmly, and even more so when his lover produced from his other hand a case of beer he’d been carrying.

                “Keepin’ de flames hot, cher?”

                “Flames don’t come at any other temperature,” Logan grunted, snatching one of the long-necked amber bottles from the case before Remy could set it down on the ground.

                “Actually,” Bobby said, appearing once more beside them, carrying a cooler full of food. Kitty, Kurt, Rogue and Jubilee were right behind him, arms laden with different items. “I’ve been working on how to make ice-fire. So far I can only make a teeny-tiny flame—“

                “Cool story bro,” Jubilee teased, dropping the back-pack filled with bug spray. Bobby bristled and frowned at her.

                “Hey, don’t be rude. Not all of us have powers that make us one-trick ponies.” He retorted.

                The other three students snickered faintly as Jubilee stood up, poking the skinny blonde in the chest. “You wanna say that again?”

                “Simmer down,” Logan chided, cracking open his beer and taking a swig. “I didn’t come here to be a glorified babysitter.”

                The two pushed each other half-heartedly and took their seats as Rogue started passing out s’more supplies.  Kurt was holding the bag of marshmallows, and his cheeks were already swollen with the two large mouthfuls he had stuffed into them.

                “Hey, has anyone seen Scott lately?” Bobby asked then, looking around.

                “I’m sure Slim has his hands full right now,” Logan answered. His eyes drifted back towards the house and he frowned a little deeper. Truth was he was actually worried about Scott. If he had actually called things off Jean, chances were he was probably taking the whole thing hard, if not harder, than she was. “Probably won’t see him tonight.”

                “Dat’s a shame,” Remy said casually, breaking off a piece of chocolate bar, popping the sliver of it into his mouth. “He certainly looks like he could use a break like dis.”

                “Yeah, with the wedding and overseeing all the graduate exams, he’s been stretched pretty thin.” Bobby noted.

                “Yeah, something tells me his schedule is about to free up a lot.” Wolverine replied, causing both Bobby and Remy, the only ones who were really listening among the group, to look up at him.

                “Sounds like you got some piece of gossip,” Remy said causally, but he could already tell from Logan’s tense demeanor that this was something more than idle rumor.  “Anything we should know?”

                “Not my place to say,” Logan answered.

                “You don’t think it has something to do with the wedding…?” Bobby asked, trying not to sound like the idea of this wouldn’t elate him. His eyes slipped to Remy, and the Cajun tilted his head thoughtfully.

                “Dunno. Den again, Miss Jean herself seemed to be acting pretty off today as well…”

                He expected the stifled look of barely restrained excitement to cross Bobby’s features. He did not expect Logan, however, to look at him with surprise and suspicion.  “She say something to you about that?” he asked.

                Remy blinked. “Um…did she say something to _you_ about it?”

                “What are you guys talking about?” Kitty asked then, noting that the two men seemed suddenly locked in a more intense conversation.

                “Jean showed up today while we were getting the fire ready, all crying and upset.” Bobby answered, trying to shush them so he could hear the other conversation.

                Remy blinked. “She came to you?” he asked Logan. “Well…I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he added with frown. “No doubt dat girl still got feelings for you. Maybe dat’s what caused de scene in Xavier’s office dat nearly burned de place down.”

                “What?!”

                Remy was taken aback by the amount of shock he received from the group, who were all staring at him now.

                “Burning it down? What do you mean? She set the Professor’s office on fire?!” Bobby gasped.

                “No, I think we would have heard about that,” Kurt admitted.

                “Wait a minute, Jean doesn’t have pryo-kenisis…” she blinked nervously. “Does she?”

                “Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Gambit held up his hands, “Alright, I think maybe I said too much.”

                Logan stood, taking the Cajun’s hand, “Come on, darlin’. Let’s you and I take a walk.”

                “Aw no!” the group moaned, “Don’t leave us hanging! What happened?! What did the professor say?”

                “That’s enough,” Logan muttered and turned, tugging Remy after him. They made their way further down hill towards the lake, glimpsing Charles himself who was seated in his chair along with several other students and staff, looking through a telescope at the first glimpses of the stars above them as the sunlight faded away over the tree tops.

                “So it seems I went in put my foot in my mouth again, oui?” Remy asked nervously as Logan brought him to the edge of the woods behind the lake house.

                “When did this happen?” the feral asked quickly.

                “When Jubilee and I came back from our donut run…why is dat important?”

                “Are you sure?”

                “Oui, but—“

                “Cajun, this ain’t good.”

                Gambit folded his arms across his chest, looking at his partner with growing concern. “Dat much any idiot can tell. Hank said dat she was experiencing a secondary mutation, whatever dat means.”

                The dark haired man nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder if that’s what prompted Slim to make the call.”

                “What call?”

                “Scott broke off the wedding. Maybe the relationship all together.”

                Remy blinked. “L’enfer…” he paused for a moment, then frowned. “And dis is what she came cryin’ to you about I suppose?”

                “Have a heart, Cajun. Jeanie…she doesn’t mean to be the way she is sometimes.”

                Gambit sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose in vague frustration. “Cher, I understand dat you got affections for Miss Jean, but she don’t really seem to understand de difference between your feelin’s and what I can only describe is the ‘high school crush’ she has on you.”

                “You’ve been talkin’ to Ro too much…”

                “Yeah, I imagine she would have a few choice words to say about it herself.” Remy retorted, and both he and Logan were surprised to recognize the hint of jealousy that was there in his voice. “Desole,” he amended quickly. “I don’t mean to sound so petty about it…maybe I’m a bit biased on the whole thing.”

                Logan pulled him into an embrace and leaned up to kiss him warmly, reassuringly. “Don’t let it get under yer skin, darlin’. You and Ro are all I need, all I want. Jean knows we’re happy together, and whatever little crush she may have…she’s a smart girl. She’s not going to try to mess that up.”

                Remy nodded and kissed him back.

                BAMF!

                Kurt appeared suddenly, clinging to the tree branch above their heads, dangling from his odd toes as he looked down at them with those bright yellow eyes. “Ooops! Sorry! We were just wondering if you were coming back…?” He blushed faintly at the way the two were embraced. “Though maybe not..?” he chuckled.

                Logan reached up and grabbed his forked tail and gave it a yank. “Scram, Elf.”

                “Ow!”

                There came a low rumbling sound then; something that might be associated with the sound of low flying plane. Though the sky above them had just become fully dark in the few minutes past dusk, there came a sudden glow from above them, bright and hot, almost as if the light was chasing itself.

                The pleasantly cool evening turned suddenly hot and humid, and the sound and the light were growing closer, streaking across the sky like a comet.

                “Everyone! Take cover!” Xavier’s voice was loud, ringing in both their ears and their minds. Around them the students scattered in panic, trying to escape the incoming fireball.

                The three of them flattened themselves to the ground, Logan straddling both Remy and Kurt and in attempt to shield them from the heat that prickled across their skin, as the comet, or missile or whatever the hell it was crashed over the tree tops above them, sending down a faint hail of ash and burning pine needles and leaves.

                Once it had passed them all three looked up—the ball of fire, which now seemed to be churning, shifting… _screaming…_ continued to sail on just above the grounds, making a bee-line straight for the mansion itself.

                Several attempts were made to slow or stop it along the way.  They saw Bobby fire a blast of ice at it, but it practically evaporated into steam before it came within five yards of it.

                Xavier cried out in agony from his chair and fell the ground. The ball of fire seemed to cry out as well, and wavered in its path, though only slightly. It struck the wall of the mansion, collapsing at least the immediate rooms beyond and then bounced and rolled up over the roof and vanished on the other side with a great thunderclap.

                From the lawn students screamed, while the X-Men were already up and running towards the damaged house.

                Hank and Betsy were already beside the Professor as they approached, and Bobby and two of the other students with water manipulating powers were trying to put out fires along the lawn.

                “Is there anyone inside?!” Logan asked.

                Betsy nodded, “At least a dozen others, including Scott and Jean, but I can’t reach either of them!” the dark haired telepath shouted.

                Logan nodded, “Stay with the Professor, Hank we need you!”

                McCoy of course didn’t have to be told twice, bounding after him and Remy as they made their way towards the burn and crumbled outer wall of the east wing. Bobby appeared behind them then, having taken on his full ice form. Kurt and Kitty flanked him, ready to help.

                Wolverine and Beast made short work of the rubble surrounding the entry point, pushing past burning debris and melted and partially crushed beams and pipes.

                Kitty phased through the mess, appearing inside first. The lights in this part of the building had been knocked out completely, making it difficult to see. Luckily, most of these rooms were class rooms, and were empty. Still she searched for any signs of life.

                The rest of the team broke through, collecting themselves in the shell of the hallway. They could hear cries for help, and immediately split up, Logan and Hank heading off to the most damaged areas with Kitty, while Remy, Bobby and Kurt helped evacuate the students who were located on the other side.

                A handful of kids were cluttered together on the landing of the stair case, frozen with fear as Gambit, Iceman and Nightcrawler made their way towards them. The smoke was thick around them and it was clear that they had already breathed in too much in their panic.

                Bobby made an ice slide that reached up to the stair rail and urged them down, while Remy bounded up the steps, searching for others who might be trapped further down the hallways.  He saw two more students coming down the hall from left, coughing and panicked. He ushered them towards him, then caught one by the arm.

                “Is dere anyone else down dat way? Did you see anyone!?”

                “Cyclops! I think he’s in his room still!”

                Remy’s eyes widened and he nodded, taking off at run. Bobby made to follow, but he shouted for him to remain behind and put out the fires that were cropping up here and there.

                The further he went down the hall, the more the floorboards beneath his feet felt unsteady, broken and creaking. Smoke was still everywhere, though Remy could not spot the source of the burning yet. He made his way through the haze, pulling the collar of his shirt up over his nose and mouth to help filter the air.

                “Scott! Scott! Can you hear me!?”

                “H-help!”

                Remy bolted towards the cry, pushing his way through a partially crushed door frame of Scott’s partially collapsed room. The man in question was on the floor, trapped under part of the fallen roof, which was still burning.

                Gambit darted towards him, crouching down next to the man and quickly helping to free him from the debris. “Remy!” Scott rasped, clutching at the man’s arms as he pulled him free. His leg was bloodied and bruised, but he still seemed able to use it.

                “I’ve got you!” the Cajun assured, pulling him away from the hole in the roof and the sagging, creaking floor. The fire that had started above them continued to drop burning debris onto the bed and carpet below, quickly spreading the flames.

                “What the hell happened?” Scott rasped as Gambit tried to pull him to his feet, bracing him as they stumbled towards the door together. “Are we under attack?”

                “Not sure,” Gambit coughed. “Are you okay?”

                Scott nodded, though he seemed more than a little dazed. They were almost to the door, when the roof above them gave another hideous groan and began to fall in further, raining down burning shingles, wood and metal.

                Scott turned his optic blast on it, vaporizing it in seconds as he pushed himself and Gambit through the door. Unfortunately, the blast caused further stress to the already compromised structure around them, and the walls themselves began to crumble inward.

                “NO!” Scott yelled, pushing Remy back into the corner as he kept trying to blast the collapsing walls away.

                “Scott stop! STOP!” Remy grabbed him and pulled him with him, staggering at a run down the hall towards the stairs again. They could see Kurt standing there waiting, eyes wide.  He vanished in a puff of smoke and reappeared next to them, grabbing them both before vanishing again.

                They materialized outside on the lawn, coughing and slightly stunned from the sudden transport. Scott grabbed for Remy, “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?”

                “I’m fine!” Remy chided, clasping the man’s hands as they grabbed at his face and shoulders. “Scott, I’m fine! You were de one trapped under de roof.”

                “I don’t want anything to happen to you…”

                Both Kurt and Remy looked at him in confusion, and Gambit eased the man down flat on the grass, wondering if he wasn’t in shock or something. “Nothing will, mon ami. Take it easy now, I’ve got you.”

                Scott smiled strangely and gripped his hand before promptly passing out. Kurt bent over him and then looked cautiously up at Remy. “I think…he’s drunk.”

                Gambit blinked, not having any idea how to process this idea at the moment, when another loud boom caught their attention and they turned to see another breathless sight.

                It seemed like the comet or star or whatever had crashed into the mansion, was not quite done with its rampage. The section of the mansion where it had come to rest suddenly burst forth with a great explosion of light and fire that spired up into the sky, emitted a deafening screech that surely could be heard for miles.

                A collective pain and terror spread through the crowd gathered on the lawn, who cried out in turn, clutching their ears for the deafening sound and trying to shield their eyes from the blinding light.

                A moment later it faded, leaving them stunned and breathless.

                “Logan…”

                Remy realized that his lover and his friends had been headed right for the center of the blast. He was up and running, Kurt calling after him to stop, even though the sound only registered as a faint buzzing in his ears.

                “Logan…Logan! LOGAN!!”

                Others, who had the same horrifying realization were soon trailing after him, including Colossus, Iceman, Pyslocke, and Angel.

                The blast had created a literal crater, roughly the size of a tennis court at the back of building. Everything around it was charred black, burned away to ashes and twisted metal. Shielded behind a reinforced stone fireplace were the sprawled figures of Hank McCoy, and Kitty Pryde.

                Remy skidded to a stop beside them. Hank was unconscious, but Kitty was very alert, wide eyed and terrified, panting heavily.

                “Kitty! Are you alright, cherie, do you--!”

                “Oh my god oh my god oh my god--!”

                Remy gripped her and tried to focus her attention. The girl looked spooked. “Kitty! What happened?! Where’s Logan!?”

                “She-she-she just---she just---and he—he tried to—but he couldn’t--!”

                Her wild eyes drifted towards the crater and Remy felt his heart leap into his throat. “LOGAN!” He went off at a run again, and he could feel how hot the scorched earth was beneath his feet.  Inside the hole that had been carved into the foundation below, were two bodies; Logan and Jean.

                Remy slid down the incline, doing his best to maintain his balance. He could hear others shouting after him, but he ignored them. He dropped beside Wolverine, who was obviously healing from massive damage done to his body.

                Most of his clothing had been burned away, as was most of his hair, though even now it was growing again. Gaping wounds caused by horrific burns were closing, growing new skin and sealing smooth and tight, returning to their original state.

                Remy knew he would be seeing this all again in his nightmares, but for the moment he could focus on whether or not the man in his arms was still breathing. Which Logan was, though the sound of it was raspy and painful. Gambit was almost certain that a few seconds ago the man must have been legally dead.

                He held the man close, watching his face as it returned to normal, not knowing how quickly Wolverine would regain consciousness. His eyes wandered then to the other victim. But here they were met with an even more startling sight than Logan’s graphic regeneration.

                Jean seemed almost utterly untouched by the fire that had consumed everything around her. She was entirely intact, with the exception that she too had been knocked unconscious. Remy stared at her, unsure of what to make of this.  He began to hear a faint sort of buzzing sound in his mind, a sort of confused, excited, frantic whispering.

                He winced…the longer he looked at Jean, the more the sound increased, but it was not her voice.  Or at least, not her voice alone. What was this?

                He clutched Logan tighter, shutting his eyes, baring his teeth and trying to drown out the buzzing sound that made him feel like his head was going to explode. It was like something was pounding through the kinetic static that shielded his mind, trying to break in…like it wanted something that was inside…

                But it ended as quickly as it had started, and Remy felt the faint patter of rain on his skin, coming from above. Looking up, he saw that heavy, swollen rain clouds had covered the sky, drenching the land below and putting out the remaining fires.

                As he looked harder, he could see a figure among them, directing the rain. Storm was back.

 

***

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

                Logan came to in his own bed, which confused him greatly. He somehow didn’t remember making it back to the house after the bonfire…in fact…he couldn’t remember much of the bonfire at all. He sat up, blinking around, realizing quickly by both sound and smell that he was not alone.

                There were hushed voices coming from downstairs. He climbed out of bed, pulled on his lounge pants and made for the steps, discovering not only Remy and Ororo but also Hank, seated among the couch and chairs at the center of the living room below.

                All three looked surprised, and relieved to see him up and moving about.

                “I miss something?”

                Remy reached him first, hugging the man hard to him and kissing his cheeks, hair and lips. “Mon Dieu, you scared me, cher! Was starting to wonder if even a healin’ factor like yours could hold up to…” he didn’t finish and kissed the shorter man instead. Logan could feel waves of relief rushing off him, pent up nervousness he’d been holding onto for what seemed like ages. But why?

                “Okay, now I know I missed something.” Wolverine mumbled, looking past Remy to the others. Storm moved towards him next, taking his hand and pulling him down beside her on the couch, where she kissed and hugged him in turn.

                “Logan, do you know what’s happened?”

                “Sorry, darlin’,” the dark haired man muttered, scratching his head. “Last thing I remember you were off camping and the Cajun and I were chaperoning the campout…”

                Hank moved in then, crouching in front of the smaller and peering into his eyes with one of his small handy flashlights he kept in his doctor’s kit, “It seems to me you’re suffering from some short term memory loss. Not surprising really, given the level of trauma—“

                “Trauma? What trauma?”

                “De big fireball from de sky? Half de mansion going up in bits, you and Jean at ground zero?” Remy asked. “None of dis rings any bells?”

                Logan looked at them blankly for a moment, then stood up and made his way towards the window. Sure enough, across the lawn, he could see the damage. The charred grass and trees, the large, broken section of the house, still blackened by the exposure.

                “Holy shit.”

                He looked worriedly back at them, “Was anyone else hurt? You said Jean…is she--?”

                “She is surprisingly unscathed.” Hank answered. “It is, in fact…the most troubling fact of all.”

                “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “We’re all glad Jean is safe,” Hank amended quickly, “but…it’s all been very confusing. From what Charles, Betsy and I have been able to piece together since last night…it’s starting to look as if Jean _absorbed_ the fire.”

                The others looked on in confusion.

                “I’ve never known Jean to have such an ability,” Ororo replied. “Especially if this fireball came from an unnatural source as you and Charles suggested…how could Jean possibly contain such power without some repercussion?”

                “I realize it’s a mystery, Ororo,” Hank answered, looking again to Logan. “Which is why I was so hoping for some insight from you, my friend, once you recovered. I’m afraid the blast rendered my own account useless and poor Kitty….if it wasn’t for her quick actions in making us both intangible and phasing us through the wall…”

                They all shifted uncomfortably at the thought, and Storm put her hand over Hank’s large blue one.

                Remy turned to Logan again. “You don’t remember nothin’ cher? You must have gotten close to Jean at some point, since I found de two of you together…did she say anythin’ when you found her?”

                Logan furrowed his brow, trying to think, but the only thing he saw was a white hot flash of light. There was nothing else.

                “It’s alright,” Hank assured, putting an arm on his shoulder and looking at him with that same tender gaze he always had in moments like these. “It’ll come back to you in time, I’m sure. For now, you should rest, though I’m sure you believe you don’t need it.” McCoy turned then, moving off towards the door, “I’d best get back to the lab and see if any of my tests have yielded results. A little forensics should give us a bit more insight on the nature of this mysterious fireball.”

                He stepped out of the front screen door, on to the porch, making his way towards the steps, when Logan followed him.

                “Hank,”

                The doctor paused, glancing over his shoulder curiously. “Have you remembered something?”

                Logan paused, standing awkwardly close to him. “Yeah…I remember some blue-furred asshole who didn’t hang back when he should’ve cause he was worried about me.” Wolverine brushed his hand along Hank’s thick arm. “I got a healing factor, pal. You don’t. If anything ever happened to you, cause you were trying to save me…don’t think I could live with it.”

                Hank smiled. “I’ll try to remember that.”

                “You’d better.” The Canadian answered. “Not sure how the X-Men would get along without Hank McCoy to put ‘em back together.”

 

**

                Though the damage to the house was indeed extensive, there was no loss of life, and all the injuries sustained where minor ones. Repairs had already been started, and with the help of some of his more gifted students, Charles knew that things would return to normal sooner rather than later.

                But of course, that normalcy was only the veneer. A much greater concern was brewing under the surface, one he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to grapple with.

                Xavier wheeled himself down the hall, to where some of his students and staff had been relocated into smaller, empty dorms until repairs could be made. Scott was waiting for him, his injured leg propped up on the footstool in front of an old arm chair, staring blankly at a television, a glass of clear liquid close to his hand.

                “Isn’t it bit early for Vodka?” Charles asked quietly from the doorway.

                Scott’s eyes slid towards him, blood-shot and heavy lidded behind his ruby quartz glasses. “Add a little orange juice and it becomes socially acceptable breakfast fare.” He mumbled.

                “Are you drunk?”

                “Hung over,” Scott answered softly. “I was drunk last night.”

                Xavier sighed softly, worriedly. “I wish you would have talked to me. I know you’re in pain…”

                Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, sure you do.”

                “There’s no need to—“

                “Just stop.” Cyclops said sharply. “Just _stop._ I know you mean well, Professor…but I don’t need you to hold my hand and console me. I did this for her…for both of us. So we could stop living a lie before we sunk any deeper.” He sat up, adjusting his bandaged leg accordingly. “I just didn’t expect it to hurt so bad.”

                “It hurts because you still have feelings for Jean. Even if they aren’t romantic. You two have been through too much together for too long…that leaves a mark.”

                Scott nodded quietly. “Is she okay?”

                “She’s resting. I think that’s best for now.”

                “Do you?”

                They were both startled to see the woman in question appear in the door way behind them. It was clear that Xavier was more shocked than Scott, but the red-haired woman ignored his inquisitive look, her attention on Scott.

                “How are you doing?” she asked.

                “Nevermind me,” Scott blinked, “You’re the one who---“ he fumbled, unsure what to say. “Jean, what the hell happened last night?”

                “I don’t…really know,” she said nervously, rubbing her arms for a moment. But then she tilted her head, hair falling over her shoulder as she glanced a bit more carefully at the Professor. “Actually, yes. I know what happened. Or…at least I know what I experienced.” She leveled her gaze at Charles. “I heard that voice again. It had been calling to me…it was so _loud_ and so clear last night. And it was the first time…the first time I ever felt like it was not coming from inside me…but from somewhere else. Trying to find me.”

                “Jean, that’s enough,”

                “And I let it.” The expression that crossed her fair features told both men that this came as a relief to her. Like she had finally let go of a weight she had been shouldering for the longest time, a weight that had been crushing her.

                Scott looked at her nervously. He knew that she had been struggling with her powers, he knew she had been struggling with this strange voice in her mind. She had cried about it at night, and he had held her through the night terrors and the terrifying dreams of fire and desolation. He had watched her descent into what he feared was madness, guilt ridden and trapped. He believed for a long time that he was partially to blame, that he had worsened her condition by being unfaithful. Staying with her, despite everything, had been his penance.

                It was only in the last few days that he had seen her take a new turn, and realized fully that he was not to blame for Jean’s instability, and that his reluctance to leave her side, to carry on their charade of a happy relationship, was doing more harm than good.

                “That thing that fell from the sky…is that where the voice was coming from?” he asked.

                “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

                “What does it want? Why did it try to hurt you?”

                “It wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. It just…needed…” the words fell away and for a moment she looked lost, as if she wasn’t sure what she had been talking about. She blinked at them, “I don’t know what it was. But it’s gone now. After the fire—“  her eyes widened. “Oh God…is Logan okay?”

                Scott sunk deeper into his chair. “What does Wolverine have to do with this?”

                “Yes,” Xavier cut in quickly, hoping to defuse the fight before it started. “Logan is fine now, I’m sure. Hank is checking on him as we speak.”

                Jean nodded in relief, though she looked mildly shaken by the memory of what had happened. “He tried to get me out of the house, but…I wouldn’t leave. And then whatever it was, it just went off like a bomb and he was so close to me—“ she found herself crying in spite of herself. “It killed him. It must have.”

                “It didn’t kill you and it didn’t kill him,” Xavier reminded her gently. He looked up then, sensing something that neither of them were aware of and frowned. “We’re about to have visitors. Excuse me.” He wheeled away without further explaining himself, leaving the pair alone for the first time since their fight the previous day.

                Scott lifted himself from his seat with some effort, hobbling over to turn off the TV. Jean looked at the duffle bag that was thrown across the foot of the bed. “You didn’t waste any time packing. A good thing I guess…considering our room is in pieces now.”

                “Jean, please…”

                “Warren told me that Gambit rescued you. Must have been very exciting for you…”

                He slammed his fist down on top of the old television set, causing it to rattle faintly. “Dammit, Jean…don’t do this to me. Don’t.”

                “Why don’t you just admit that you’re gay Scott. Why don’t you just say it? Stop pretending like we were ever going to work out, that you ever wanted this life—“

                “STOP IT!” he shouted at her, face hard red. “How dare you…how _dare_ you…you think I didn’t love you? I did, Jean, I still do! But we aren’t right for each other and…I wanted, for once, just once, for us to be honest with ourselves. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

                “You’re sorry you got caught.”

                “You know what,” he retorted, “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry you found out about me and Logan. I’m sorry about that whole fucking _mess._ But if we’re gonna lay it all out there Jean, I don’t think you’re nearly as mad about me fucking him as you are that _I got to him first!”_

                She struck him hard across the face, and Scott felt the throbbing ache of what would later be a large, unflattering bruise, and the hot, tingly rush of blood to his nose.

                “You asshole.”

                “I’ve let you hate me as long as I can,” Scott panted. “You can’t have it both ways, Jean. You can’t love me and hate me too. I’m tired of taking all the blame.”

                Neither one of them spoke for a moment, trying to catch their breath. Jean was staring at him with strange eyes, as if she were seeing him for the first time and trying to understand or decode who and what he was.

                Scott felt that same odd buzzing sensation of her telepathic intrusion in his mind and he flinched, physically backing away from her. “Stop, stop it…get of out of my head…NO!”

                She looked up, startled.

                “Get out of here,” he spat. “Just…get out of here!”

                She turned and fled the room, leaving Scott feeling winded in her wake. Beneath the slowly receding cloud of his anger, however, Scott began to worry. Jean wasn’t acting at all like herself, and the presence he had felt in his mind just now did not feel familiar.

                It was as if the Jean Grey he knew was slowly eroding in front of their eyes, and the woman standing in her shell was someone entirely different, yet somehow fundamentally similar.

                He needed to clear his head, he decided.

 

**

 

                Jean’s thoughts were racing, chasing each other around and around in her mind, seemingly trying to catch up to one another, but never quite able to connect. Even as she fled Scott’s presence, his words followed her.

                No, she wasn’t herself. She hadn’t been herself for a long while now. But was that really such a bad thing? Before now, she had been trapped in the only role she had ever been given; that of star student, promising talent and “good girl” of the group.

                Back when she had first come to this school, this place, that had all seemed wonderful. She wasn’t tortured by the fear of her growing powers. Xavier had taken that fear away, showed her how to take control, how to master and discipline her power. Becoming part of the X-Men…meeting Scott, Hank, and Warren…even Bobby, who had been very young at the time…she had a sense of community and family that she’d never known before.

                But the community had grown, and Jean had found herself slowly being over shadowed by other talents, and bigger personalities. First it had been Storm, then Betsy, and soon came Pitor and his sister Illyana, then Forge…more and more over time.

                Scott, the first boy she’d ever been in love with, her only real relationship out of high school…became less attentive as time went on. First it was with missions, with taking on more and more leadership responsibilities. Xavier was grooming him to take over the team, while she, was being groomed to take over the school.

                But Jean didn’t want the school.

                Looking over it now all now in hindsight, the idea that this strange man, who had just suddenly turned up one day on her doorstep, offering a way for her overwhelmed parents to deal with their “troubled” daughter, had seemingly mapped out her whole life for her without ever once asking…was this what _she_ wanted?

                Jean might have been content to push down the feelings, burying them deep in her subconscious, the way she had so many unpleasant things. Building walls higher and higher and thicker and thicker, sealing all the unpleasantness away. It was almost worth it, to keep Scott and her friends close to her.

                But then Logan had appeared.

                Logan was a variable that Jean could not have accounted for. When they had first rescued him that day on that snowy road, with young Rogue trapped inside a burning car and the Wolverine himself engaged in what appeared to be a death match between Sabertooth, she couldn’t have known how he would affect her.

                Something about Logan’s mind, and the strange way that she found herself immersed within the labyrinth of his centuries old memories, all broken, distorted, and drifting…waiting for someone to patch them together, to heal the rifts. It was utterly intoxicating to the telepath.

                She hadn’t meant to become so attached. She hadn’t meant to find herself craving the man in the middle of the night, or picturing him making love to her instead of Scott. She hadn’t meant for every shred of affection and attention that he showered upon someone else to make her silently seethe with envy.

                But it all happened anyway. And she couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t stop wanting him. He was her addiction, her dirty little secret.

                The way he had come rushing to her rescue last night, when Scott was nowhere to be found, had cemented the fantasy in her mind that Logan must feel the same for her on some level. She had seen it in his mind many times before. He cared for her…

                Jean paused, finding herself in the kitchen, unsure of how she had gotten there. The torrent of thoughts in her mind seemed to quite for a moment, leaving her feeling confused and surprisingly empty.

                “Miss Grey?”

                She blinked, startled by the sound of another voice. Her head snapped in the direction of the sound, and spotted Remy, who appeared to be in the middle of restocking the fridge with drinks.

                Jean felt the shift within herself before she could stop it. The sudden surge of jealousy, anger and distrust at the sight of her fellow team mate. The man who had…complicated things. The other voice, the other presence inside her seemed to cast a shadow over her consciousness, taking control. It remembered Remy from the night before, when it had first come into this new state of awareness within Jean. It had seen him with the object of her affection, and had felt what jealousy was for the first time.

               

                Remy studied the woman before him with caution. “Miss Grey?” he repeated, closing the fridge door and forgetting his chore for the time being.

                The woman stared at him with thin frown and intense eyes, “Yes?” she quipped suddenly, sharply, as if annoyed by his persistence.

                “You look a little bit lost dere,” the man replied, his tone even and cautious, not caring for hers. “Can I help you wit someth’ng?”

                Jean moved past him to the fridge, grabbing a drink without looking at him directly. “There isn’t anything I want, or need your help with in this house. I know my way around.”

                The hostility coming off the woman made the Cajun bristle, and he frowned, looking away as he finished his work. “Look, cherie, I know you goin’ through a rough patch right now and I sympathize, but walkin’ around with a mouth full o’ venom and your claws out right now ain’t gonna do you any favors.”

                She ignored him, and he seemed content to let it go at that. But then she spoke again, “Where’s Wolverine? Have you seen him this morning?”

                Gambit felt every muscle in his body tense and tighten at the question and he exhaled slowly, feeling the burn of his energy rising just under his skin. “Never you mind where he is,” he muttered, all attempts at civility dropped.

                She blinked, making a faint “tsk” sound with her mouth, as frowned at him. “Excuse you?”

                “Non,” Remy answered, “excuse et toi, m’selle. Now, I’m still not quite sure what it was dat happened last night, but I do know for damn sure dat Wolverine used up one of his nine lives tryin’ to protect you, and you have de _nerve_ to come sauntering up to me hours later, just casually wonderin’ where he is? Oh non, ma’dam. You don’t get dat privilege.”

                He could feel her anger rising, and he didn’t care, not one little bit. There was no concern, no urgency in her questions about Logan. Just the same vain curiosity, the hopefulness that she might catch a moment alone with him.

                Bobby and Hank entered the room then, both carrying bags and totes of groceries from the pantry on the other side of the building.

                “Hey Remy, you aren’t just gonna leave us---whoa,” Bobby gasped, looking between the man and woman as they stood glaring each other down. “What’s going on here?”

                “Are we interrupting something?” Hank asked pensively.

                “Non,” Remy muttered, “I t’ink we done here.”

                “Is this about you kissing Logan the other day?”

                Hank groaned silently behind him. Remy’s red eyes flashed faintly pink for a moment and his fingers flexed angrily then curled tightly into his palm. He bit his lip for a moment, trying to hold back whatever was about to come rushing forth. But it came anyway.

                “Exactly what do you t’ink is gonna happen between you two, Jean? You t’ink cause you ain’t wearin an engagement ring on your finger now dat he just gonna walk away from Ro and me? Dat what you think?”

                “I _think_ ,” Jean replied, “that Logan and I have a deeper connection than you can understand. Our relationship doesn’t need to rely on the physical…we have somethin’ more meaningful.”

                “ _Really!?_ Really! Is dat somet’ing a lot of teasin’ and mixed signals and ploys for affection that only get met wit de cold shoulder when he don’t act how you want? Cause yeah, you got _loads_ of dat!”

                “Oh God…” Hank groaned, knowing he was about to watch a catastrophic train wreck.

                “You think you’re something special, Remy LeBeau, but all you are is a conniving, grasping piece of swamp trash. Every where you go, you leave a trail of misery and broken hearts behind. I’ve seen it in your head. Jericho, Eli, John…all people you used and left behind. How many more are there Remy?”

                “Jean, stop this!” Hank pleaded, moving forward. Remy held out a hand, stopping the man from pushing his way in between them.

                “Non, Henri. It’s fine. Miss Grey ain’t mistaken. De hell of it is, dat while she’s so busy casting stones at me, she ain’t thinkin’ about de fact that she lives in one big glass house herself.”

                “I’m nothing like you,”

                “Damn right you’re not,” he answered. “Cause unlike you, I can actually see past my own bullshit now and again. I admit when I’ve fucked up, and you’re right I’ve fucked up a lot. But de t’ing is Jean, I know myself. And you can’t even begin to see where you start or end. Cause you’ve filled up your life with so many pretty little lies, so many distractions that you don’t even recognize yourself no more. And dat’s why you so damn angry…cause suddenly, you got no one to blame that on. Not Scott. Not de Professor. Not me, or anyone. All you got left is _you_. And dat scares you more den anythin’ don’ it?”

                “How dare you…”

                “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me dat ain’t why you chasin’ after a man who clearly don’t want you de want you want him, cause you like how you feel around him.  Cause he don’t know you like Scott does. He don’t know anything but dat pretty face you put out to the world. He ain’t seen the ugly side of you yet, but he will and then what?”

                “SHUT UP!”

                The room around them began to shake, the lights flickering in and out. Bobby and Hank both grabbed counter tops, trying to brace themselves as they were shaken by what felt like a mild earthquake.  Iceman managed to make his way back towards the door and vanished while Hank kept casting terrified glances between Remy and Jean, fearing what would come next as the angry continued to boil and combust between them.

                “NON! You don’t love him! You just want a fresh start, a blank slate that you can manipulate and mold! And you can’t have it! _You’re a spoiled, selfish child Jean Grey and everyone knows it!”_

                One of the overhanging lamps fell from the ceiling and crashed upon the floor, sparking and flickering. Jean’s eyes were bright gold.

                “You’re a thief and a liar Remy LeBeau, even your name is a sham! You used your Charm on Logan the moment you met him, you kept him under your little spell, just like you have so many other people. You act like you an innocent victim, but that’s just another lie! Just another story you tell to mask your own motives…you think because you’ve got Logan in your thrall that he belongs to you? What will he do when you find someone else to fuck instead?”

                Remy felt a sudden sharp pain in his mind, something trying to probe through the haze of kinetic static that protected it.

                “Get out of my head!” he bellowed, clutching his skull, falling back and having to be braced by Hank before he hit the floor.

                “JEAN ENOUGH!” Beast roared, baring his fangs at her.

                “Don’t defend him, Hank! He doesn’t deserve it! Scott was right about you from the beginning, Gambit. Storm pulling you out of that sewer half alive was no coincident. You were there for the Morlocks, you were leading the Marauders right to them!”

                Remy shouted in pain as the telepath broke through the barriers of his mind, scowering his thoughts, his memories, searching, digging up every past mistake, every indiscretion…it was a violation he had only previously suffered at the hands of Sinister himself.

                And it was there that he found his footing again. Bracing himself, Remy focused his mind and forced Jean back, regaining some of his control. “So you want to know my secrets, cherie? FINE. _You can_ _have dem all!_ ”

                Jean gasped, feeling herself suddenly drawn down into Remy’s worst memories, sucked into the vortex of his pain and trauma. Through his eyes, Jean felt the humiliation of being Sinister’s object of lust and obsession, the fear and mistrust that surrounded him as his relationship with Sabretooth went from bad to worse, until finally they were in the tunnels again.

                Both of them were screaming, Remy forcing himself to relive every vivid detail of the assault, trapping Jean there with him in his rage.

                It felt like it would go on forever, the two of them trapped in that nightmarish moment, but something jolted them free.

                Remy fell back, sagging to the floor, braced in Hank’s large hands, while Jean was forced back by someone else—Logan.

                “What are ya doin’!?” the feral snarled at the woman, claws popped.  Jean stared at him, stunned and shaking from her place against the wall. “Logan…he—“

                “What the hell is going on in here?!” Scott’s voice came from the doorway as he entered, helped along by Bobby and flanked by Ororo, all three looking shocked by the scene in front of them.

                “Wolverine, stand down!”

                Logan grunted at the man, then slowly retracted his claws, backing away from Jean and turning his attentions to Remy, who was pale and trembling. The sight unnerved him, as he could not only see Gambit’s intense distress but smell it as well. He looked back at Jean. “What did you do?”

                “Me? He…he started—“

                “Jean, you’re not yourself.” Storm said then, moving around the crowd. Her eyes kept drifting worriedly back to Remy, but for the moment she felt needed to be the voice of reason. “We’re all friends here, Jean. No one is against you…just tell us what’s going on so we can sort this out.”

                The red haired woman shook her head. “No…no it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t want to hurt him. But he wouldn’t stop! He just…I had to prove him wrong.”

                Logan was beside Remy, helping Hank to right him. “Cajun, look at me, you with me, darlin’?”

                “I’m alright…” Remy mumbled, though the words were shaky. “but dere is somet’ing very wrong wit her.”

                “SHUT UP!” Jean screeched. “SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! Oh God how I wish Creed had just killed you in those tunnels! I wish he’d ripped your throat out before Logan ever laid eyes on you!!”

                The words were irrational and full of rage, and it was only after they had escaped her lips and echoed back to her over the walls of kitchen did she understand the hate they were laced with. Hate she didn’t even know she had.

                She covered her mouth with both hands, wide eyed and teary, knowing she couldn’t take it back. The way they were all looking at her now made her feel so small and awful…and the thing inside her, the hungry, burning voice, did not like it at all.

                Storm backed away from her now, a look of deep disappointment on her face. “Do you hear yourself?” she asked, “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

                “But Ro…Ro, you don’t know him…he has you fooled…”

                “So now you don’t trust my judgement either? Can I not think for myself?”

                “You’re not listening! He-he’s doing it again! He’s making you defend him.” Her eyes turned frantically to Logan. “I need you…please. Please, I need you to believe me. Logan…you know I’m not like this. I wouldn’t hurt anyone…”

                Logan refused to look at her, getting his arms around Remy instead. “You know how the sayin’ goes, sweetheart. Ya made yer bed, now ya gotta lie in it.”

***


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

                After the fight, both Jean and Remy were taken down to Hank’s lab for observation. He did his best to keep the two quarreling parties thoroughly separated, fearing any further interaction would provoke another outburst.

                Logan stayed protectively next to Remy, suddenly wary of everyone and even acting reluctant to let Hank in too close. Luckily McCoy knew how to brush these things off.  Bobby staid with them, sitting awkwardly in the chair beside the bed, thumping his leg and trying to find something else to focus on, other than his teammates struggling not to attack each other.

                Ororo, for the moment, was attempting to talk to Jean at Scott’s request.

                “She won’t respond to me,” he replied, looking worn and aged by the experience. Storm could tell it was taking a great deal out of him, trying to be there for Jean even though things between them were so turbulent at the moment. It was a burden she couldn’t let Scott shoulder alone.

                Scott stood aside, allowing Ororo to sit beside Jean, who refused to look at either of them. Jean looking strange and small, hands folded nervously in her lap, staring at her shoes, like a child being sent to the principle’s office. Storm didn’t know what to make of it all, and for a time, she could offer no other comfort beyond her physical presence.

                “I had no idea things were this bad,” the taller, darker woman said softly, turning her gaze from the little glass partition that separated the individual patient rooms. “Those things you said…they aren’t like you at all.”

                “I know.” Jean answered.

                “Did you mean them?”

                She didn’t say anything at first, tears welled in her eyes and her stomach clenched, hot and angry. Her face was a flushed, damp mess from crying. She felt foolish, and childish. But the anger and the jealousy that had taken over her was too great to shove away.

                “How am I supposed to answer that?” she replied. “it isn’t fair…you used to be my best friend. Both of you.” She glanced back at Scott, who looked at the floor.  Jean frowned and turned her eyes back to Ro. “But now that you’re involved with them…we never talk anymore. I never even see you, except in passing or in training. But it’s different then. You’re different.”

                “So are you,” Ororo answered. “We were friends, Jean, yes. And I still want to be. I care for you very much, you know that. But I’ve watched you drift away for a long while now…the choices you’ve made, the way you treat others now…I don’t know you anymore. And I’m afraid for you.”

                “Don’t be.” Jean answered. “If you weren’t worried enough about me before to try to help, then don’t worry about it now. I can take care of myself, by myself. I don’t need you, or Scott or Charles fussing over me…I’m not a child.”

                “No one thinks that,” Scott replied, and both women almost jumped to hear him speak up suddenly. Jean bristled at him like a cat, but he continued on before she could object. “I do think, with absolute certainty, that this is a cry for help.”

                “Oh do you?”

                “Jean hear him out,”

                “I don’t want you here,” Jean snapped, looking directly at her ex, eyes narrowed and angry, still glassy from tears. “Of all the people who were supposed to be on my side, you were the one I counted on the most. But you couldn’t keep it in your pants, and then you drove him away…you ruined everything Scott.”

                It was very obvious that words cut the man deeply, but Storm also got the impression that this was not the first time Jean had said this to him. Cyclops squared his shoulders and looked at her plainly, “I ruined our relationship. Fine. I’ll take the blame for that Jean. I hurt you because I couldn’t be honest with myself. I was afraid. I know that. I think about it all the fucking time. And you know that. But Wolverine’s lack of interest in you has nothing to do with me. I never kept him from you. Not once. I didn’t have to. He never wanted you like that…”

                “And suddenly you know what it is Logan wants? He and I were close before you—“

                “Stop it. This isn’t going to solve anything!” Storm snapped at both of them, more than a little irritated to hear them fighting over her partner like he was a piece of meat.

                “I’m glad we agree on that.” Scott muttered.

                Storm looked at Jean, taking her hands in hers and gazing at her seriously. “You need to let go of this Jean. It doesn’t matter what might have happened. I need you to be rational. Logan was with Hank after Scott, do you blame him for keeping you apart?”

                “That…that was a fluke. Obviously. Look how quickly it ended.” She scoffed quietly, “I mean, it’s _Hank_ …”

                Storm held back an urge to screech at the woman, though it was quite difficult. Even Scott flinched at the callousness of Jean’s remark.

                “And what of myself? Do you blame me too?”

                Jean faltered a little, seeming to lose some of her fire. “We weren’t the same after that. You treated me like a threat.”

                “Can you blame me?” Storm answered. “You were acting like a jealous, love-sick girl, trying to out shine another prospective lover. Do you have any idea how hurtful that was to me? Or to him? He always sees the good in you, no matter what you do to him. I can’t understand it…”

                “It’s because he needs me.”

                “Why Jean? Why does he need _you?_ ” Scott asked, genuinely curious.

                But Jean didn’t answer, she just stared off into space for a moment. Her silence and blank gaze was unnerving, but no less frustrating. Especially when Scott noticed her crossing and uncrossing her ankles back and forth back and forth nervously. It was a subconscious tell of hers, one she always resorted to when she was feeling guilty about something.

                “ _Gambit_ changed him.” She said then, suddenly coming back to herself, the nervousness dropped, replaced by cold resolution. “I told you, that Charm power is more potent then you realize. He’s a level four mutant, his potential for controlling someone, for re-writing their thoughts by manipulating their feelings is devastating! But none of you want to see that.” She looked at Scott, “Don’t you remember when his powers overwhelmed you? Tell me that it isn’t possible that Remy changed Logan, that he’s holding him under his power. Can either of you tell me, for one moment, that you haven’t considered this?”

                Storm was losing her patience, and it was becoming more and more obvious with every word her former friend spoke. She tried to remind herself that Jean was in pain, that what she was saying was coming from a dark place of hurt and loneliness, but her sympathies were becoming a bit too stretched. Scott, however was the one to speak first.

                “You’ve been in Remy’s head. You know those things aren’t true.”

                “I know only the little that I’ve seen…his kinetic energy shuts me out. Another convenient talent of his.”

                 “He can no more control that than you can control being a telepath. You’re just trying to justify being angry that…Logan loves him. And not you.” The words were quiet, somewhat lost sounding. As if they were taking hold in Scott’s mind even as he spoke them.

                “Where ever our romantic interests may lie, we are all supposed to be _above_ this kind of petty quarrelling! We are X-Men! We are family! And we have a responsibility to each other, to respect and protect each other! Do you know who taught me that Jean?”

                The other woman let out a little miserable sob, wiping her eyes. “I-I did…”

                “That’s right. You did. The Jean Grey I know would never put something like this above the good and safety of the rest of the team. She wouldn’t shun someone just because they were her romantic rival, and she certainly wouldn’t try to hurt them over it.”

                 “He caught me at a bad moment, that was all. I admit I said things I shouldn’t have…but he had no right to force those feelings on me. Those awful, awful things…”

                “Be grateful you have only experienced them second hand.” Storm replied. “I understand that you may feel some jealousy towards Remy. But accusing him of treachery, of playing on our sympathies simply for his own gain is _monstrous._ Have you forgotten I was the one who found him that day? No one, no matter how great a liar, no matter how good a con artist, would put themselves through that sort of anguish just for a score.”

                Jean’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She felt a thrill of anger and guilt go through her again, threatening to topple her composure again. Something inside, the other voice, felt excited by this prospect. It wanted to feel that recklessness, that burning fury again. But Jean shoved the urge back, as much as she could. “I know you have to take his side. You’re sleeping with him.”

                “Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t tolerate this, Jean.” She looked at her firmly. “You are spinning out of control. You’ve locked yourself away from your friends, and you’ve spent the last few months keeping Scott trapped in a relationship just to punish him for his transgressions. You are lashing out…stop for a moment and realize we want to help you, not fight you.”

                Jean’s eyes narrowed at her. “I don’t need a lecture about controlling myself, Ororo.” She muttered. “You, of all people, should know how it feels to have something inside you that you can’t control, that you don’t even _want_ to control. Not all the time. I am so tired of being controlled.”

                Storm tensed. “Jean…this isn’t the same as that.”

                “No, of course not.” The other woman answered. “You have an illness, a disease of the mind. I’m not sick…I’m evolving.”

                Ororo stared at her, saying nothing, caught between anger and shock. She raised a hand to strike her, but Scott caught her.

                “Storm, stop!” He looked at her pleadingly. “Please…she doesn’t mean it.”

                “That no longer matters,” Ororo replied, yanking her hand free. She looked bitterly at Jean, who seemed almost amused at her ire. “I’m not Scott, nor am I Logan, nor any other of the permissive men in your life who have made excuses for you! No matter what you’re going through, it does not give you the right to abuse the people around you on a whim! How could you treat us like that?!”

                Jean just watched her with that same bemused expression on her face, though her cheeks flushed now with what seemed like excitement. “Who’s letting their emotions get the better of them now?”

                Storm let out a shriek of frustration and lunged, but Scott pushed her back, receiving a faint shock for his efforts, yet he wouldn’t let her go.

                “Stop it! Stop it Ro! She’s just trying to get a rise out of you…”

                “What gave you that idea?” Jean giggled.

                “SHUT UP!” Scott barked at her, much to Storm’s surprise. “Just…just shut up. Just stop…please, God, just…stop!”

                “Or what Scott? Are you going to shut me up?”

                Scott’s eyes were wet and angry behind his visor, and it was clear that he had reached his limit with her. He started to raise a hand, though it wasn’t clear if this was meant to strike out at her or not.

                It didn’t matter, as the next second a much stronger hand gripped him and pushed him roughly away, sending him crashing against the wall with a snarl. Logan had appeared in the room, angry and wild-eyed.

                “Get away from her!”

                Both Storm and Cyclops were too startled to speak at the man’s sudden appearance, not to mention his sudden vehement need to protect Jean.

                The dark haired man snarled at Scott, and seemed to ignore Storm completely before turning to Jean and looking at her closely. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

                “I know you won’t,” she smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

                Storm broke, grabbing Logan’s shoulder and tugging him back. She didn’t need to ask what Logan was thinking—he wasn’t. Jean had taken control. Storm slapped her, hard, knocking her back across the bed.

                “LET HIM GO! NOW!”

                Jean blinked up at her, rubbing the hot red spot on her cheek, both frightened and thrilled to see the other woman so angry. “You hit me!” she gasped.

                “And I’ll do it again! Let him go!”

                Wolverine blinked, withdrawing from the defensive stance he had taken and looked around in confusion. “Ro…? What—?”

                 “It’s alright everyone,” Xavier said gently, appearing in the doorway now, keeping his voice calm and even as usual.  He ushered Wolverine, Cyclops and Storm forward, giving Jean a firm signal to remain where she was. The woman folded upon herself, the moment passing, leaving her feeling outraged, confused and sick with herself.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry! Scott! Ororo! Please!”

Xavier muffled the sound of her words, moving the other X-Men away from the patient room and drawing the curtain closed behind him.

“What was I just doing?” Logan mumbled, clearly in a daze. He glanced back at the room and the drawn curtain, then worriedly at Ororo and Scott.

                “It’s alright,” Storm said with some effort. She pulled the man in and kissed him quickly. “Go back to Remy. Take him and get back to the lake house. Wait for me, okay?”

                “You sure, darling?” he asked, glancing at the Professor then. “Cause I got a complaint I’d like to lodge with the boss…”

                “I’ll handle it.” She said firmly, and Wolverine knew it was true. He excused himself without another word, and it was only after they and Bobby had left the area that Storm turned back to remaining members of her team.

“She’s lost her mind!” Storm shrieked, making both Hank, and Scott flinch worriedly. “I don’t know who that… _bitch_ is in there, but it’s not Jean! What the hell has happened to her?!”

“Please try not to take her words to heart just now. Jean doesn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then what—“

“It’s beyond her control,” Scott answered, “she’s been this way for weeks now…it’s only getting worse. Her rage takes over…and she’s not Jean anymore.” Storm gazed at him with growing helplessness and remorse, realizing Scott had been dealing with these kind of outbursts on his own.

“I’ll get Jean calmed down, after that, we can all have a talk together. But now’s not the time. I think it best if you return with Remy and Logan to the lake house, Ororo. I think some time to cool our heads is desperately needed.”

                Storm nodded, but was unable to look at either of them and excused herself quickly. Hank followed her outside the medical bay with her for only a moment, catching her hand lightly. “Ororo, please, don’t judge her too harshly now.”

                The white-haired woman looked at him with dismay, “What would you have me do? She’s spiraling out of control, I fear what she will do next, but all anyone does is make excuses and hide her away. What is going on, Hank?”

                McCoy froze, caught in her gaze, unsure what to say. He glanced nervously back towards Charles, but felt Ororo’s hand on his cheek a moment later, turning his face back towards her. “I know he wants us protected. But we cannot protect _her_ or ourselves if we don’t understand what’s going on.”

                Hank nodded firmly. “I’ll meet with you later. Go be with Remy and Logan…I’ll join you when I can.”

 

***


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

                Jean barely remembered being removed from the infirmary, guided up to Xavier’s study by his direction and steady hand. The world around her was becoming more and more detached by the moment, and she felt less and less apart of it.

                Charles spoke quickly to Hank and Scott, who both lingered at his door for a moment, then dismissed them both. Jean sat passively in a corner by the window, staring out across the lawn. She was growing more and more ill at ease within this house, within this place. Everything felt too small, too confining. The world was so big, and there was so much she had yet to see…why was she still here?

                But these thoughts were only partially hers.

                “Jean,” Charles said quietly, turning towards her at last. Her gaze slipped towards him, noting the intense concern and evidence of fear on his face. Normally such emotions aged people, but when Charles looked frightened, he always looked younger, more childish. Jean remembered vaguely when she had first met Xavier. The weight of the responsibility he had chosen to shoulder had only begun to crush him.

                “Jean,” he said again when she didn’t respond. “Can you hear me? Are you still able to speak with me?”

                “Of course I am.” She answered. “I don’t know what you mean—“

                “You do. Stop trying to hide it. There’s no point, not from me.”

                The young woman paused and then nodded slowly. Xavier moved closer. “Help me understand. The voice you’ve spoken of, the presence in your mind… it’s not human, is it?”

                “No.”

                He nodded nervously, taking a slightly shaky breath. “I felt it yesterday, when it fell from the sky. I touched its consciousness and it nearly…broke me. It’s so vast, and so old.”

                “Yes…it was dying. That’s why it came. It came here to die, to start over…it asked me to become its vessel, to help it live. I couldn’t refuse. Now it’s part of me.”

                “It?”

                “The Phoenix,” Jean answered, voice gasping as if caught in sudden awe. Charles witnessed a surge of power within her, a heat below her skin that made her glow bright and luminous, that amplified her life-force to something that was a bright an vivid as sun. “I’ve felt its approach for months now…crying out in the blackness of the space…it needs a host, it needs a vessel, somewhere to end and begin. It wants to help us, Professor. All of us, our kind.”

                “How?”

                “The Phoenix brings life…regeneration and evolution…it’s not her first time visiting our world. But our progress is being staggered, slowed by the hostility and fear of others. We are not where we should be.” She looked back out at the lawn, at the students moving here and there, at the rest of the staff who were finishing repairs on the battered building. She was able to sense them all, hear their thoughts, taste their emotions.

                “I’ve never taken a human vessel before.” She spoke again, and Charles tensed, sensing the faint change in her speech, knowing Jean was no longer in conscious control.

“Whom am I speaking to?”

“I am…Fire and Life incarnate. Now and forever. I am _Phoenix_.” The woman before him seemed to change, eyes gold, skin firey hot and illuminous, shifting with the air almost as though it were a flame dancing on a match head. Xavier felt his heart skip a beat as he felt the creature before him reach out and touch his mind, and he saw the vastness of the void it had been born from, the distant stars and galaxies to which it had given birth to, the civilizations not yet created all resting within her palms. He felt shaken to his core and receded a bit further into his chair, trying to keep his composure.

“Do not fear me, Charles Xavier. I do not wish you, or your X-Men harm.”

“Then why are you here? Why have you taken Jean?”

“This woman’s power is immense. Greater than ever yours Xavier. She could facilitate great change within this world, change for the betterment of your species. But instead her head is filled with all this other turmoil. Loneliness and this insatiable desire to be wanted, desired, loved…”

                The woman clutched her head as if she had a sudden headache. “There are so many things she feels, and I can’t…I can’t escape it anymore. I didn’t expect to be overwhelmed by this.” She looked plainly at Xavier. “How do you humans continue to survive when you are so consumed with these emotions?”

                The Professor almost laughed. “it is what makes us what we are, I’m afraid.”

                “It is unbearable.”

                “I think it best then, that you allow Jean to regain control. Find another host.”

                “I cannot.” She answered. “I am too weak to maintain a form alone…Jean Grey gave consent to this union…my power is hers and her power mine. It cannot be undone by your will, Charles Xavier. Only hers.”

                “Please try to understand…Jean may be Mutant but she is still mortal. I believe your power is causing her great instability, and great strain upon her physical form. You’re hurting her, Phoenix. You must set her free.”

                “N-no…” It was Jean’s voice that spoke this, her consciousness suddenly reasserting control over the Phoenix’s.  “I don’t want to be free!”

                “Jean, you don’t know what you’re saying!”

                “I do!” she insisted, voice shaking with the echo of the firebird’s power behind it. “What am I otherwise? I can’t always be your prize student Professor, your proof that your School and your dreams are valid! I am more than a prize now…I am so much more.”

                “Of course you are!” the man before her gasped. “Jean you were always more! Please, listen to me, you don’t have to do this to prove something—“

                “BE QUIET!”

                Charles shouted as he was overwhelmed by a sudden physic rush that left him mute and powerless, consciousness fading as he tumbled from his chair and was left stricken upon the floor.

                Shaking all over, Jean stared at him. For a moment she was afraid she had killed him, but she could still sense his mind and was assured otherwise.

                She was stunned at her power, awed by her strength. Never before had she had the will to deny Xavier anything. She didn’t know what to do now, but her heart was pounding and her thoughts were burning. Suddenly the world before her felt infinite.

                Of course it was. She was no longer just Jean. She was Phoenix.

                _“Why do you hesitate?”_

                “I don’t…I don’t know what to do now.”

                _“Whatever you wish._ ”

                Jean gave a quiet little nod.  She looked at her hands, she felt weak and shaky. “What’s wrong with us?”

_“We’re fading. We need more energy, to start the regeneration process.”_

                “Where?”

                She glanced at the pictures upon the wall, of the staff and students, and a more recent one with herself and all the newest members of the team that had been taken just earlier that month, all crowded around Xavier as he sat proudly in front.

                She smiled to herself, allowing the Phoenix more control now, knowing she would need it. “Let’s go talk to our friends.”

 

***

                               

                Logan could not be still, no matter how much Remy tried to coax him to. His head was buzzing with vague rage, fueled by the ease at which Jean had been able to manipulate him. He had always known the woman to have this power. Telepaths were dangerous to Logan’s kind, and perhaps Logan in particular, as his memories and sense of reality were far less grounding than others.

                Despite this, despite everything, he had always trusted Jean not to abuse this obvious advantage, the same way he trusted Xavier.

                That she would ever move him like a pawn on a chess board was a violation he couldn’t tolerate.

                “Cher…” Remy cooed again, remaining calm despite everything. The Cajun still looked drained from the experience, though he was recovered otherwise. He watched as Logan grabbed a duffle bag from the closet and started stuffing items into it.

                “I think maybe we oughta get out of town for a few days,” the feral grunted. “You, me and Ro. Take the convertible, take a road trip. I need to put some distance between me and this place.”

                Remy put his hand over his lover’s, pausing his anxious and aggravated movements. “Mon couer…as lovely as that sounds…t’ink maybe they gonna need us here, don’t you?”

                “No, I don’t actually.” Logan grunted. “There’s a slew of other X-Men besides us. Let the other team pull their weight around here for around here for a change, instead of disappearing into God knows where all the time.”

                “Logan, I know you’re angry—“

                “Stop it,” Wolverine muttered, looking at his lover with some reproach. “Don’t sit there and pretend you aren’t, when you did what you did. You’re just as pissed at Jean as I am, maybe more-so, considering ya unleashed emotional hell on her.”

                “Yes, I did, and what good did do?” Remy replied.

                Logan gave up with a snarl of frustration and threw the bag across the room, letting it smack against the wall and roll to the floor. “My ipod had better not be in there,” Remy muttered.

                “Dammit, can you just be with me on this!?” Logan barked. “She crossed a line, and you really think Chuck’s gonna do anything about it? Cause I sure as hell don’t. I’m not playing this game, I’m _done._ Let’s hit the road.”

                Remy stared at him. “There’s something you’re not telling me, cher.”

                Logan ignored him, or tried to. “It doesn’t matter.”

                He knew better than to look back at Remy at that moment, but he did any way, and one look at those black and ruby eyes told him he was utterly sunk. He could never resist them, no matter how hard he tried.

                He sighed in resignation, trying to let go of some of his anger as he did so. “Everyone’s got an opinion on Jeanie, and it’s always different on who you talk to. But when I first came here, mess that I was…she was good to me. And part of my broken brain…felt like it remembered her from somewhere. Took me a long while to figure out what it was…not till after the mess with Victor awhile back did it really start coming back.

                ‘There was a girl in my life, a long, long time ago. I was just a kid still…it wasn’t long after Creed and I had left home. Victor looked after me, but I was…sick. Or something. There was a girl who took some pity on us, helped us find a place to stay and find steady work for awhile. She took care of me when I was in a bad way. Her name was Rose.”

                Remy listened silently, drawing Logan back closer to him and opening up the empathic link between them to help steady and calm him. These memories were raw and blurry for the feral, and Remy sensed his uncertainty about them. They were aged and delicate like old paper, and Logan feared they could fall apart and vanish just easily.

                “She was someone important to you.”

                Logan nodded. “I was just a pup then…a scared, stupid pup who had lost everything except for Creed. He wasn’t the thing he is now, or at least, he wasn’t as bad. But Creed just reminded me how different we were, how much we didn’t belong with the rest of the world. Rose was the opposite. I remembered feeling safe with her.”

                Remy gripped his hand lovingly and coaxed him on. “Chuck and Jean, they’ve both been helping me recover things. But Jean focused on these memories the most with me. She said they were important to helping me cope with my rage…” his words drifted off then and Remy noticed that a vague, glassy expression came over the man’s blue eyes.

                “Cher,” He tried to bring Logan’s attention back to him, and was concerned to see that doing so did not come easy. His lover looked lost and confused.

                “Logan, look at me.”

                The feral did so with some effort, but after a few moments the fog cleared. “Sorry…what was I sayin’?”

                “You said Jean focused on dese memories? Why is dat do you t’ink?”

                “Told ya, she says it calms me down. Brings me back to myself if I go too far feral.”

                “What happened just now wasn’t calm. Was more like you were in a trance…”

                “Naw, I just got a headache that’s all.” Logan answered. Remy was disturbed to see that the other man, seething with frustration a moment ago, now seemed quite docile and eager to please. His guts twisted nervously.

                “So, has it come back to you yet? What happened in the fire the other night?”

                “What makes you bring that up?” Wolverine asked.

                “Cause I’m scared for you cher,” he answered. “I’m scared that woman has more power over you than you realize, and that it ain’t something that just got started either. I’ve seen dis kind work, this kind of manipulation. I don’t want to believe it, but—“

                “You don’t know what you’re talking about.“

                “Dere you go again! Why are you defending her?”

                “I don’t have to explain—“

                “Stop,” Remy gasped, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him in close again though the man tried to walk away. “Stop and think about what you’re saying, what you’re doing. Just _think_ for a moment cher, don’t just react. She’s got you conditioned, but if you—“

                Remy paused hearing the quiet snikt of Logan’s claws unsheathing themselves. He felt the blades pressed lightly against his chest. The two men eyed each other in silence for a moment.

                “Are you really going to hurt me?” Remy asked, voice quiet and steady, showing no fear.

                Logan didn’t answer, and Gambit felt his arm shaking lightly. Carefully, slowly, the Cajun reached for his wrist and gripped it. “You are nobody’s guard dog, Logan. You are not a weapon to be used, not by Stryker or Creed, not even by Jean Grey. You belong to _you_ , cher. I need you to remember dat now.”

                The blades receded. Logan looked shaken and wide eyed. “Remy,“

                Gambit pulled him in and kissed him, letting the other man hold him too close and too tight. He didn’t need or want words right now. They just needed to stand together for a moment, and recollect themselves.

                “Can we get in the car now?” Logan muttered thickly against his shoulder, and Remy laughed and kissed his hair, blinking back anxious tears before Wolverine could see them.

                Outside, they heard the rumble of thunder, followed immediately by the onset of heavy rain. Not a moment later, Ororo appeared in doorway. She looked at her partners, and they at her, and for a moment all three shared that same sense of anxiety, rage and creeping dread.

                “We need to figure out what to do about Jean.”

 

**

                Bobby lingered in the halls long after Logan and Remy had departed, waiting for the rest of the team to return from escorting Jean to Xavier’s study. The young Mutant could not shake the anxious coil that had twisted itself into his chest, seeing his friends and mentors in the state they were in.

                But as much as he was baffled by everyone’s erratic behavior, no one concerned him more than Scott. He had watched from afar as the man had come undone over the last few days, beginning with confronting Jean and culminating in the twisted argument he had just overheard.

                And while Remy, Logan and Storm all seemed to at least have each other in their corner, Scott was weathering this fight alone. And he was losing. Badly. It broke Bobby’s heart.

                Finally Scott reappeared, flanked by Beast. Both looked deeply strained.

                “I don’t know how much more of this I can handle,” Scott spoke, looking to the man beside him, hands shaking. “He said she would be alright…he said he had control of this situation… I shouldn’t have listened to him, Hank. I shouldn’t have listened!”

                “Scott, Charles knows what he’s doing.”

                “Really?! Does that in there _look_ like he knows what he’s doing!? He promised me… _you both_ promised me she would be okay when this all started!”

                “Whoa, whoa,” Bobby whistled, calling attention to himself as he realized that neither of them seemed to be aware of his presence. “What are we talking about? The Professor knew that Jean was going to go all Regina George?”

                “Bobby, please—“

                “No, Hank, I’m tired of keeping this a secret.” Scott muttered. “Yes, Bobby, as a matter of fact, Charles _did_ know that something was happening to Jean. He’s known about it for months, when she first started having the dreams about the firebird. He knew that her powers were getting stronger, and that the dreams weren’t just dreams! They were some…alien _thing_ making contact with her!”

                “Scott, stop—“

                “No Hank! I’m not keeping his secrets anymore. He promised to protect her and he let that thing take over her! That thing in there is not Jean!”

                “Holy crap, okay, everyone slooooow dooown!” Bobby insisted, looking between the two of them. “So you’re saying that Jean’s been acting crazy because there’s some space alien who’s been talking to her?”

                “It’s a bit more complicated than—“

                “No, that’s totally what I heard. Jean’s powers are getting stronger and that summoned some weird space thing that’s making her a bitch. And Xavier is…okay with this?”

                “Xavier is trying to understand what the cosmic being who has been speaking to, and through Jean, has come here for.”

                “Does it matter?! Do you think I give two shits about some space bird that may or  may not have some secret of the universe, if it means Jean’s losing her mind!?”

                “I’m trying to keep that from happening, Scott, we both are—“

                “Oh save it, Hank,” Scott muttered. “You’re just the Professor’s yes man, his pet scientist! If you wanted to stop this, you could have! But God forbid you ever say no to the great and powerful Charles Xavier. For all that muscle you’ve got Beast, it’s a damn shame you don’t have a spine.”

                Hank said nothing, but the way he bristled told Bobby that he needed to get Scott out of his direct line of vision immediately.

                “Okay, well, that clears things up. Come on, Scott, let’s go get a drink or two, or ten, whatya say?” He took Scott’s arm and started leading him away from Hank, who stomped off in the other direction. It was only once they had rounded the hall that Bobby slowed their pace and looked at his teammate with concern.

                “Scott…was that really necessary?”

                “I don’t need a lecture about sparing people’s feelings, Bobby,” the older man muttered, shrugging off his grip. “I never should have stayed quiet about it in the first place. This wouldn’t be happening if I had I taken her away from here.”

                “…would it really have mattered?” Bobby asked softly. Scott looked at him, affronted by the suggestion, but before he could retort, Bobby continued; “I mean… you said she was having dreams about this thing, right? This firebird thing. That it was because her powers were getting stronger. That would have happened whether you took her away from here or not, Scott.”

                “He encouraged her to make contact with it!”

                “Did she not want to?”

                “She…told me she was afraid. At first. But the fear went away after the first time she spoke to it. Then she heard the voice all the time…it never stopped after that.” He sniffled, his face feeling hot, his eyes burning. He desperately wanted to unleash his power, to lay waste to the walls around him, screaming his frustration as he did so.

                “I never should have let her. She didn’t want this.”

                “When has Jean ever done anything that she didn’t want to do?”

                “Dammit, Bobby…you don’t know—“

                “Scott, I’m sorry! I know you don’t think I know what I’m saying, and maybe I don’t know everything, but I know that whether this freakin’ space bird started talking to Jean or not, you two still wouldn’t be together. And she would still be chasing after Wolverine! You want to blame your break up on this thing, and I’m not saying that maybe it didn’t have something to do with it…but the truth is you were both miserable. And you’re both still angry.”

                Scott said nothing, just blinking at the thin blonde man behind his visor. Bobby shook faintly, feeling sweat drip down his neck and back under such intensity.

                “Oh God…I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s just…you’ve been so angry and so hurt for so long. I see it, every day. You think we don’t notice, but we do. And I know bigger things are happening…but we can’t possibly help each other through them if we just…keep being so angry all the time.”

                “Bobby…my ex-fiance is possibly possessed by some cosmic space entity that is completely unseating her sanity. Do you really think now is the time to be talking to me about this?”

                Iceman’s face turned a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry. Dude, I’m so sorry.”

                Cyclops turned and walked away and Bobby sunk down the wall, face in his hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod Bobby you freakin’ IDIOT…”

                He felt hands grip his shoulders then, and with a gasp he felt himself pulled through the wall, landing in Kitty’s lap.

                “Hey!”

                “Shh,” she hushed. She nodded behind her, to where Kurt, Jubilee and Rogue were all sitting on the edge of the dorm bed, eyeing him with fascination and anticipation.

                “What’s going on?”

 

**

 

                A short time later, Hank made his way out of the mansion through the storm. He was not sure that the lake house was the best place for him to be, but at the moment he could not bring himself to stay another minute within the mansion.

                The discord among them all now felt unbarable, and Hank couldn’t deny that Scott’s words had wounded him so deeply because he felt there was some truth in them. He had indeed played a part in allowing this being to take root in Jean’s mind, and now for all his scientific expertise, he did not know how to stop it.

                Wet and dripping, he ascended the porch steps and knocked upon the screen door, hearing it creak and rattle under his fist. He saw the lights inside, and a moment later Remy was answering the door, ushering him inside with a nervous glance over McCoy’s shoulder, almost as if he was checking to see that he hadn’t been followed.

                “I hope I’m not interrupting,”

                “Interruption’s just what we need right now, mon ami.” Gambit said, helping him shrug out of his soaking lab coat.  Ororo and Logan were on the couch in the center of the room, coiled together, both looking shaken and unhappy.

                “It is indeed a dreary and unhappy night for X-Men my friends. The rain is more than appropriate, Ororo. I only wish it could wash some of this night away with it.”

                “You and me both, Beasty.” Logan mumbled. He gestured to a large arm chair. “Have a seat, stay awhile. We were just talkin’ about gettin’ out of dodge. Wanna come along?”

                Hank was not certain if Logan was serious or not, but chuckled anyway. “If only it were that simple.” He folded his fingers together nervously. “I wish I could say that this was merely a matter of tension and sore tempers, but it is so…so much bigger than that.”

                “Bigger how?”

                “Jean’s secondary mutation…the expansion of her physic powers, has somehow attracted a force outside our world. A rather vast, sentient energy source. The fireball that crashed into the mansion last night.”

                All three of his hosts looked up in surprise. “You mean that thing was…alive?”

                “In a sense, yes. Apparently, it had been reaching out to Jean’s mind for sometime, trying to connect, understand. Charles, Scott and I have been monitoring Jean’s contact with it, as well as her power surge, trying to understand and maintain it. We were barely managing…the crash last night made me realize how little we understood about the forces we were dealing with.”

                “And this creature, this cosmic force, where is it now?” Storm asked.

                Hanks golden eyes slid towards Logan. “I believe that it has taken control of Jean. Bonded with her physical form, their consciousness is intertwined.” He kept his eyes steadily upon Wolverine. “You must have witnessed it, when you tried to save her from the fire. But she didn’t need saving she—“

                “—Was the fire.” Logan concluded. “Yeah...I saw her, swallowed up by this flame, shaped like some sort of eagle…I tried to pull her away but…”

                Both Storm and Remy looked from Logan to Hank. “You knew? You knew all this time, and you never said anything?”

                “Charles asked me to keep it quiet. There were already enough rumors going around about Jean. It was important to keep things as normal as possible, to maintain stability.”

                “But that all went to hell when Scott called off de weddin’ plans.”

                Hank sighed.

                Wolverine stood up then, “If this team gets anymore wrapped up in secrets and hidden agendas for the greater good, I’m not gonna know the fuckin’ difference between it and Weapon X.” he muttered, turning and heading towards the loft. “I’m done with it.”

                Hank looked at a loss, sputtering for something to say, but Remy simply stood and followed him, giving a nod back to them. Storm nodded in turn, knowing the Cajun had it well in hand. No one quiet soothed Logan’s rage the way that Gambit did.

                Once they were both out of sigh, Hank let his head sink into his hands with a quiet moan. “He’s not wrong, Ororo…this is something the team needed to know about, so we could have prepared…I put us all in danger by omitting the truth.”

                Storm did not immediately comfort him, sitting there thoughtfully in her own chair, trying to process this information. “Charles asked you to keep his secrets. It doesn’t surprise me. You’re his confidant.”

                She looked over at him with her clear blue eyes, studying his disheveled form, seeing the remorse and anxiety on his face.

                “I know that Charles is important to you, and you know he wants what’s best for us,” she said after a moment. “But that doesn’t always make him right.”

                Beast nodded slowly. “Charles is the most powerful telepath on Earth. The only Mutant who could ever rival his talents was Jean…but she lacked his control, his way of filtering and managing the voices that were always reaching out for him. Believe me Ro, I remember a time when he could not. He suffered greatly. Neither of us wanted to see Jean go through the same pain.”

                “Pain is inevitable, Hank. It’s part of life. It’s how we cope with it us that defines our character.” She licked her lips nervously.  “This is Jean’s burden to bear. All we can do is offer our support, and be ready if she needs us.”

                He gave her a little smile. “Ready to forgive already?”

                “I didn’t say that,” the darker woman answered quickly. “For now I can only hope that what happened in there was not something she was completely conscious of.”

                “And what if it wasn’t?”

                “Then she and I will deal with it when the time comes. But it’s not now.”

                She moved to sit closer to Hank, taking his hand and putting her head on his broad shoulder. “It’s been a very long few days, my friend.”

                “I couldn’t agree more.”

                “All I want is to sit here with you.” She nuzzled his neck and shoulder, giving his thick fingers a squeeze between hers and Hank made a soft purring sound in return. She chuckled and looked up at him, studying his face for a moment before leaning up and kissing him softly.

                Hank accepted the gesture, feeling a warm rush slither through him from his lips and all the way down to the pit of his stomach. But he pulled back quickly, looking at her closely. “Ororo…is this okay with…” he glanced towards the loft worriedly.

                Storm nodded and turned his face back towards hers, “Everything is fine, Hank. Do you trust me?”

                He nodded, and she kissed him again, a bit more firmly this time.

                Though he was still nervous, McCoy wrapped his big arms around her as the woman moved into his lap, pushing him back against the cushions as she leaned over him, kissing him and scratching her fingers through his fur.

                She was warm and firm, Hank loved how soft her skin was, but never failed to admire the strength beneath. He, like both Logan and Remy, adored that Ororo was a strong, powerful woman and not afraid to have a little muscle on her. She was all the more beautiful for it in fact.

                And she really was beautiful, inside and out. Hank had always thought so. One his hands drifted down her back lightly, but stopped well above the waist, catching himself with a little nervous gasp. Storm chuckled and nuzzled him, “Always the gentlemen.”

                “What are we doing?” he asked softly.

                “Kissing,”

                “Yes, but…you have two much better prospects waiting for you upstairs. Why are you here with me?”

                “Henry McCoy, one of these days you are going to learn to stop comparing yourself to everyone else and _love_ the man you are.” She sighed quietly and just hugged him for a few moments. “I know this isn’t how conventional relationships work. I’ve been in enough to know how it looks. But this isn’t about loyalty, it isn’t about taking something away from them to give to someone else. I love them. That doesn’t change, just because I offer affection to someone else.”

                “No…I suppose it doesn’t.”

                “if it’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not okay with.”

                “No,” Hank said, perhaps a little too hastily because she grinned at him and he flushed with embarrassment again. “No, I’m not uncomfortable at all. A bit out of my depth perhaps…but I’ve never been someone to shy away from a new experience.”

                “I know you’re not.”

                “May we…continue kissing?”

                Storm kissed his nose. “As long as you promise not to let go.”

 

**


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

                Jubilee continued to chew her gum a little too loudly, a nervous habit she had picked up overtime. Bobby was finally finished spilling his guts about everything; from the fight between Remy and Jean to the confrontation in the lab, to Scott’s meltdown.

                Their little group sat huddled in the bedroom in the aftermath, an uneasy feeling hanging over them.

                “So basically what Scott’s saying is Jean made contact with extraterrestrial life, and then it decided to come pay a visit and now it’s decided to…permanently be part of Jean?” Rogue asked from her place at the edge of the bed.

                “I guess,” Bobby sighed. His head was in Kitty’s lap, and she was massaging his temples, trying to ease the headache that had seized him.

                “That sounds… _really_ creepy.” Kurt replied. “Why wouldn’t the Professor tells us this?”

                “Probably _because_ it sounds so creepy.” Kitty sighed. “I love Professor Xavier, but for a guy with no kids of his own, he’s the most over protective parent I’ve ever met.”

                “Well that’s no excuse. We’re not his kids, we’re his _team_. We should know what’s going on around here, don’t you think?” Jubilee quipped.

                “I’m sure the Professor had his reasons…” Kurt offered.

                She rolled her eyes at him, popping her gum loudly. “Kurt, come on! If we don’t start taking some action around here soon, this whole team is gonna fall apart. Clearly the “senior” team isn’t cutting it on their own right now. We need to step in and help.”

                “Yeah, I tried that,” Bobby muttered, sitting up. “And don’t forget that I _am_ part of that senior team, Jubes. None of this makes sense…Xavier made a bad call this time. We need to figure out how to keep it from getting worse.”

                “Like how, genius? You know anything about exorcising alien demons from people?”

                “I’m sure there’s a movie about zat somewhere,” the blue skinned man offered with a grin, but all he got was a nudge in the ribs from Rogue, signaling him to knock it off.  She he rubbed the tender spot on his chest, he turned his head towards the window.

                “Hey,” he gasped, shaking Rogue’s covered arm, pointing towards the darkened window as it looked out over the empty grounds below. “Isn’t zat Cyclops?”

                The group moved hurriedly over to the window, crowding around it in the dark. Sure enough, there went Scott Summer’s, creeping out alone across the lawn, towards the lake house.

                “Where do you think he’s going?”

                “Hopefully not to pick another fight with Wolvie…” Jubilee said nervously.

                Bobby paused, then looked at the rest of the group resolutely. “Let’s follow him.”

                They looked up in surprise.

                “What? Bobby, are you sure spying on Scott is going to—“

                “Look, there is a fucking alien FIREBIRD possessing Jean, Wolverine’s acting way more irrational than usual, Hank and Charles are keeping all sorts of weird x-files conspiracy level secrets from us, and Storm is making it rain cats and dogs outside…I think a _spying_ could hardly make things worse.”

                No one had any retort to that.

                There was a noise outside then, a sound like something heavy hitting the floor. Startled, the group jumped, muffling cries of surprise, slapping hands over each other mouths. Kitty wriggled away from the group with a look of annoyance and made her way to the door. She started to open it, but instead hesitated. She had a bad feeling that she didn’t want to expose herself to whatever was just outside.

                Instead, she focused and allowed herself to become intangible for a moment, peeking through the door. The first sight to greet here was that of the neighboring room’s occupant—Illyana and two other girls, passed out on the floor.

                She opened her mouth to cry out, when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Down the hall, moving away from them and towards the staircase, was Jean. Only she barely resembled the woman Kitty knew so well. She was glowing, seeming to trail flames behind her and her hair shimmered like red hot coals. She was wearing a costume that Kitty didn’t recognize; red and gold and black.

                Another student, stepped into her path at the end of the hall and gave a startled cry of confusion. Jean’s hand lifted, and the student’s eyes rolled back into his head and down he went with a thud, just like all the others.

                Kitty yanked her head back into the room, just as she glimpsed Jean looking back towards her.

                “We’ve got to go!” she cried to the others, rushing them.

                “Kitty, what happened?” Bobby gasped.

                “We have to go! NOW!”

                “Kurt, get us out of here!” Bobby ordered, and Nightcrawler nervously grabbed the group and clenched his teeth.

                BAMF!

                A moment later the lot appeared on the lawn, tumbling into the wet grass, choking from the rush and the smell of brimstone.

                “Kitty, what did you see?” Bobby asked nervously, grabbing her shoulder.

                “It’s Jean…she’s…we need to get help.” She panted, wide-eyed. “Where’s the Professor?” she whispered nervously, feeling near tears and wiping the corner of her eye with her wrist in irritation as her fear attempted to overwhelm her.

                Kurt put his arms around her and steadied her, “Shh, it’s alright. We are here.”

                “Look,” Rogue said then, pointing to the house. The lights inside flickered for a moment and then went out entirely, leaving the mansion doused in darkness. There was a loud sort of hum that followed, and Bobby tensed as he recognized the sound. “Something’s draining the power from the generators. The security system is down.”

                “We should go get Betsy and Warren—“ Rogue started, but Bobby grabbed her arm gently. “No one is going back in that house right now. I think we’re safer out here.” He looked around, hoping for a glimpse of Scott. But they had not landed where he hoped. They were on the opposite side the mansion, the one nearest the emergency escape trail.

                Iceman groaned in frustration. “Dammit Kurt! Why did you teleport us all the way over here?!”

                “I panicked!” Nightcrawler retorted. “You made it sound like we were about to get killed, what else would I do!? You’re lucky we aren’t all the way in Salem Center right now—“

                “Shh, shh, stop!” Jubilee snapped at them. She pulled them further into the shelter of the trees, both to escape some of the rain and also to hide their presence, should anyone be watching. “Look, we can’t fight right now. Bobby’s right, we shouldn’t go back inside. Warren and the others probably have their hands full with Jean, if she hasn’t already gotten to them. But we know that Logan, Remy and Storm are out here. And Scott too…somewhere. We need to find them.”

                “Agreed. But we can’t all just go running towards the lake house, it’s too noticeable.”

                “We need a diversion team. Someone to be on look out.”

                “Not it.” Jubilee said quickly.

                “Not it!” Rogue added.

                Bobby frowned at them. “Ugh, fine not it either!”

                Kitty rolled her eyes, “Oh my god. This is why we’re the C team guys. THE C TEAM.”

                “Whatever,” Bobby muttered. “Kitty, you and Kurt be the lookout team. If trouble starts, Kurt teleport to us and let us know the situation. Kitty, you get yourself the hell out of there.”

                “Never been a problem.”

                Bobby looked at Jubilee and Rogue. “Alright, rookies. We’ve got to get to Scott and the others before Jean goes all _Carrie_ on them. Don’t screw this up.”

                “Please, the only thing you should worry about is not getting distracted.” Jubilee replied. Bobby’s pale face flushed.

                “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                The black haired girl narrowed her gaze at him, and he stood up rigidly.  “Fine… Let’s go team.”

                “Wow it sounds twice as lame when you say it,”

                “SHUT UP.”

 

 

 

**

                The rain was still coming down in a dark grey curtain, and the sky was already dark with the heavy swollen clouds, blotting out the little light that was left from the waning sun. Logan watched the drops fall on the skylight windows on the slanted roof above his head, while Gambit kept his head in his lap, massaging his temples, neck and shoulders, trying to ease his tension.

                Logan had never been particularly good at mediating, though he had tried it many times before. Remy calmed him, helped him sort through the feelings that overwhelmed him, helping him let go of rage before it took over. He reached up and rubbed the man’s forearm affectionately, and Remy just smiled softly down at him.

                “Better?”

                “Yeah,” Logan breathed. He sat up with a grunt, “Thanks darlin’.”

                “Of course,” Remy nodded, settling back on the bed, trying to draw the shorter, thicker man back with him.  “Ain’t had much time to process all dis mess. Ya know, I never for a second suspected, when ya’ll asked me to stay and join de team dat things were so…”

                “Fucked up?”

                “I was trying to be delicate about it.”

                Logan chuckled at the idea. “We may be Mutant superheroes, Cajun, but we got our hang ups and our baggage, same as anyone else. This house is big ol’ melting pot of people’s insecurities, dramas…people are bound to clash now and again.”

                “Logan, dis place has more drama den a soap opera.”

                Wolverine nuzzled him. “Well, yer not wrong.”

                Remy looked at him seriously, “Now, I knew about Hank, and I knew about Stormy of course…and den there was de whole Scott debacle. But dis t’ing with Jean…” he paused, trying to gather his words. “No matter how many times you say you not interested in Jean, or show her dat you got all you need here with us, she _still_ ain’t willin’ ta let you go. Dis is obsession. And dat scares me.”

                Logan nodded. “Getting out of town suddenly sounding like a good idea, huh?”

                “Normally cher, I’d be the first to agree with a quick escape. But de problem just gonna be here when we get back.”

                “So…maybe we don’t come back.”

                Remy rolled his eyes. “Like you really just gonna…” he paused, looking at his lover more carefully. This wasn’t the first time Logan had up and run away from the X-Men. It probably wasn’t the last either. The man had a definite fight or flight reflex when it came these situations, and though he more often favored fight, he was no stranger to the latter either.

                “Cher…”

                Logan leaned in and kissed him. “Don’t give me that look, beautiful. We met because I needed to put some space between me and this bullshit for a few days. We’re free to come and go here, and right now go is looking like the best option.”

                “Maybe for you, but…” he bit his lip nervously. He’d never been afraid to roam, in fact he craved it as much as Wolverine seemed to at times. But right now, the idea of fleeing the protection of Xavier’s Institute frightened him in a way he didn’t want to admit. There were far worse things waiting for him outside…Sabretooth, Sinister, and that was just to name a few of the people that wouldn’t mind seeing him in an early grave.

                “Rems…you know I’d protect you.”

                Without thinking Remy just sighed, stroking the thick tuft of hair at his cheek. “Not from dis you wouldn’t cher. We’d be ripe for the pickin’…fighting telepaths obviously ain’t your strong suit and I shudder to t’ink what we’d do if we run into Creed again. SHEILD can’t hold him forever.”

                Wolverine sat up abruptly, heading towards the little door that went out onto the roof balcony.

                “Where you goin’?”

                “To get some air.” The dark haired man grunted.

                “In de rain?”

                Logan didn’t answer. Remy could feel that he was angry with him.

                “Oh, come on, cher, I’m just—“

                Wolverine slammed the screen door behind him and it rattled on it’s hinges.

                “Aw come on cher! Don’t be mad! I’m sorry!” he shouted, but Logan ignored him. Remy groaned and put his face in the pillow. “Dammit Remy LeBeau, you done went and put your big foot in your mouth dis time…”

 

**

                Logan stomped across the roof, not entirely certain that it would hold his weight, but not particularly caring at the moment. This day was going from shit to worse shit in his opinion. It was infuriating enough to feel like he was being manipulated like a pawn piece like someone like Jean, but that the manipulation had become so obvious that the people who counted on him…no longer trusted him to be in control.

                Remy’s words wounded him, but would he expect really? He’d already shown the man his claws that day. He’d done the same to Storm.

                He felt angry and sick with himself, sadly a feeling he was all too familiar with. He glared through the rain towards the house and that was when he realized all the lights were out. Wolverine raised an eyebrow, and his ears twitched and tingled faintly as they picked up on the growing buzzing sound that meant the generators were powering down as well.

                “What the hell…?” he growled. He moved to investigate, knowing he would have to swallow his pride and aggravation. But something caught his attention behind him. He turned, and through the grey curtain of water caught a glimpse of someone standing between the trees just behind the cabin.

                “Logan!”

                He blinked the water out of his eyes, sure he was dreaming or hallucinating. “Oh no…”

                “Logan! Please come down…I need you.”

                “You’re not real,” he snarled down at her. He started to walk away, but something changed then. The rain stopped. The lake house disappeared and he was standing instead on top of a sunny, grassy hill, looking down the trail at a massive pine forest. The woman at the end of the trail was smiling, holding a basket of fresh picked fruit and vegetables, the wind blowing her hair and the hem of her dress.

                “Logan! Come on! It’s getting late. Let’s go home.”

                He didn’t hesitate this time, but followed promptly, smiling as he chased her into the shadow of the trees.

 

**

 

                Gambit heard the strange buzzing noise, followed by the sound of Logan’s heavy steps down the rooftop porch steps. He got up, peering out the screen door, but the roof was barren. In confusion, he turned his attentions towards the mansion, trying to see where Logan could have gone. It was then he noticed how dark the main house was.

                He turned back inside and trotted over to the loft steps, “Ro, Hank, did you--?” His words drifted off when he saw Storm and Hank seated together on the couch, Storm straddling Hank’s lap, kissing and touching.

                Hank noticed him first and looked up in surprise, golden eyes wide and face flushed. “Remy!”

                Storm glanced back at him, looking slightly embarrassed as well.

                “Sorry to interrupt,” the Cajun said, smiling a little in shock. “Um…when did dis start?”

                “It didn’t! It hasn’t! I mean—“  Hank sputtered, but Storm shushed him gently.

                “It was just a heat of the moment sort of thing,” Ro answered. “Do we need to talk?”

                “Non! Non…don’t mind me. Actually, you two paint quite de pretty picture together.”

                “Sweet of you to say, my love, but I think you came down here to say something besides that…” she said, then gave him a look as if she _hoped_ there was something else.

                Gambit nodded then, collecting himself. “Logan took off. And from de looks of t’ings outside, dey might be havin’ troubles up at de mansion.”

                At this, both mutant brushed their amorous pursuits aside, standing and going to the window. Hank heard the fading hum of the back up generators and looked both distressed and annoyed. “That’s a rather serious power drainage. Someone must have overridden the backup controls. We’d best go and see what the problem is.”

                Storm looked to Remy. “Where did Logan go? I thought you—“

                “Yeah, I thought so too. Then I said somet’ing stupid and now it’s worse.”

                She sighed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll go look for him. You go with Hank—“

                “Not necessary.” Hank said quickly, “My lab will be hell to get to in the dark, and only I know all the override codes. Remy, why don’t you just stay here in case Wolverine returns?”

                “Uh, sure.”

                Storm was out the door first, pausing a moment as she looked to the skies, her eyes turning milky white as used her powers to command the rain to stop. She took off at a run then, taking to the air as she soared easily above their heads.

                Hank was making his way after her, anxious to get inside and see what the problem was.

                “Beast,”

                He stiffened nervously when he heard Remy’s voice and glanced over his shoulder. “Sure I can’t help? I’m pretty good with a light.” The Cajun offered, igniting a card from his pocket and letting it shimmer and glow in his hand for a moment before it turned to ash.

                “No, it’s quite alright. I’ll be quicker alone.”

                Gambit forced a smile. “Alright den. Good luck.”

                Hank hurried out the door, and Remy closed it a little too hard behind him. He paused there a moment, feeling suddenly very isolated. He’d driven Logan off by admitting he still feared how easily he could be controlled. He would have gone to Storm, but obviously, she’d found solace in Hank. Which he didn’t begrudge. Seeing them together actually made Remy realize how natural they looked, how well they complicated one another, in a manner that he nor Logan could match.

                Hank and Storm were both intellectuals, both teachers of sort, wise, poised and collected. Remy couldn’t compete with that.

                He found himself suddenly, awkwardly in the middle ground. Not powerful or wild like Logan, but not refined and intelligent either.

                He was at best a high-class con-man for hire, at worst a prostitute.

                He shouldn’t have been surprised that Hank wanted little to do with him. He was just a shallow pretty face who didn’t know when to shut his mouth.

               

                Frustrated, he slunk back to the bedroom to wait. He made it up the stairs, and was just turning towards the bed, pulling off his shirt and starting to unbutton his jeans, ready to fall into bed. His eyes slipped towards the screen door and he shouted loudly at sight of an unexpected figure there.

                The man on the other side of the door gave a little shout too and winced. “Remy! Remy, it’s just me! It’s Scott!”

                “Jesus Christ!” the Cajun barked, grabbing the door and jerking it open, glaring at the other man, who was wet and dripping. “You scared de hell out of me! What are you doin’ lurking around de roof like some crazed stalker!?”

                “I’m sorry,” Scott sputtered, “I was just out walking, I got turned around in the rain. I wasn’t going to stay, but then I saw the lights go out. I figured maybe I’d better check in—“

                Remy rolled his eyes and tugged the man in by his collar, “Just get in here.”

                Scott stumbled inside the room, glancing around, expecting to see Storm and Logan as well, and was surprised when they weren’t. The room was only lit by a hanging lantern, and a string of twinkle lights above the headboard (Storm’s idea), and Scott was surprised by how quiet everything was.

                “Logan and Ororo down stairs?”

                “Non,” Remy muttered, flopping onto the edge of the bed, scratching a hand through his auburn hair, which hung in his face. “Dey had more important places to be. I’m just…stayin’ out of trouble till dey get back.”

                Scott raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He shivered faintly, feeling his socks sag in his shoes and water from the back of his neck drip down his collar and run all the way down his back.

                Remy sighed and tossed him a blanket. “You look half-drowned, mon ami.  I got an extra pair of clothes you can borrow, over dere in de closet. Guessin’ you can tell which ones are mine.”

                “Anything not flannel, right?” Scott joked, and Remy chuckled quietly.

                Scott tugged his wet shirt over his head and hung it on the back of a chair to drip dry.  He felt a moment of coyness as he reached to pull down his pants, glancing back at Remy to see if he was watching.

                “Would you like me to turn around?” Remy giggled.

                Scott’s cheeks went faintly pink. “Sorry…” he mumbled. He yanked them down in one quick motion and hurriedly pulled on a pair of Gambit’s jeans, which were slightly too small for him. Remy chuckled, “Dose pants are giving you some love, mon ami,” he laughed. “Feel free to borrow dem when you ready to get back out dere and hit the town.”

                “Thanks, but, I don’t think that will be happening any time soon.”

                Remy nodded. “Right, desole. T’ings are still pretty fresh…right now you probably feel like bein’ on your own. No shame in takin’ time to figure yourself out.”

                Scott nodded. “It’s hard…Jean and I were together so long, and I never even considered other options—“ he hesitated, glancing at Remy again. The man gave him a supportive smile.

                “You will be okay, Scott. I promise. It will get easier.”

                “Well I certainly don’t see how it could get harder, that’s for sure.” He awkwardly sat down on the edge of the bed next to the other man.

                “Feel better?”

                “Much.” He paused, nervously looking at his hands. “I’m sorry for what Jean did. That she…said what she did. That you had feel all those horrible things all over again.”

                “Yeah…wish I hadn’ta done dat. It was outta line. I was just so…angry.” He sighed. “Dat’s all I can really say about it dese days, actually. For a long time I was scared, and now I’m just…mad about de whole thing. Stages of grief, I suppose.”

                Scott’s hand found his and gripped it lightly. “Well, if it’s any consolation, you’ve dealt with better than I could ever imagine. You deal with everything better than people give you credit for, Remy. You’re a real survivor.”

                “Ah, I’m nothin’ special, Scott.” He thought of how angry Logan had been, and of the way Hank had been so quick to get away from him when he’d offered his help. “Really, I’m not.”

                Scott leaned closer to him and lifted his chin, leaning in and kissing him softly on the mouth. Remy laughed in shock and covered his lips for a moment, face flushed. “Scott!”

                “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He leaned his head against Gambit’s shoulder, trying hide his face there. “This is so hard. Please don’t hate me.”

                Remy paused, watching him for a moment, and then nudged him up right, looking him in the eye. “You’re not a bad person, Scott. You’re actually a really sweet person, who maybe tries too hard. I know you’re going through a lot right now…if you need a hand to hold, I’m here. I’m your friend. But dat’s all I can be.”

                Scott nodded, “I know. Thank you.”

                Remy kissed his cheek lightly and Scott felt warm all over.

 

***


	6. Chapter 6

 

**

 

                Hank made his way up to the house, expecting to hear the usual clamor of noise from inside, heightened by this new inconvenience. Instead he was greeted by the opposite; the eerie void of sound and movement from inside.

                He stepped into the blackness of the front door, his golden cat-like eyes adjusting quickly in the dark and was greeted by a disquieting scene. All around him, slumped over upon themselves, or sprawled and splayed this way and that, were the students.

                An instant, terrible dread filled Beast and he rushed the first pair of bodies he saw, crouching next to them, feeling for a pulse and checking for signs of trauma or injury. But they were both completely unhurt it seemed. Hank moved from them to the next pair, and realized they too were unharmed. In fact, they all simply seemed to be asleep, though Hank couldn’t rouse them.

                “What in the hell is going on here?”

                He stood and began to make his way through the halls, finding more and more victims. Each was breathing and unhurt, but as he came upon his fellow X-Men his fear grew deeper. This was surely Jean’s doing, he realized. His stomach knotted, and he tried to steel himself for whatever it was he would find when he reached Xavier’s office.

                He paused outside the doors, feeling himself shake, his pulse throbbing in his ears. “Charles?” he called, his voice, even at a whisper, sounding too harsh and too loud in the still passages.

                More heavy silence answered him.

                Hank gripped the door knob and pushed the unlocked door open. Inside, the room was stifling, the air hot and stale. Charles was on the floor beside his toppled and partially melted chair. With a cry Beast rushed to him, lifting him nervously.

                “Charles! Charles!”

                The Professor remained unresponsive.

                Hank trembled, unsure what to do. Unlike the rest of the students and their team mates, Xavier seemed to have suffered an assault that left him not only unconscious, but practically comatose.

                _“You’ll get no help from him, Henry McCoy.”_

                Hank tensed, flinching, eyes widening as if he expected the woman to appear before him. He realized quickly that the words were coming from inside his mind, however and he grunted in irritation.

                “Jean? Is that you?”

                _“We are Phoenix now. The Jean Grey you knew is no longer.”_

Hank felt his chest tighten at the implication of these words, but did his best to refocus his thoughts. “Phoenix…what do you want here? What have you done to us?”

                _“I only want to understand. But I am weak…I need energy, X-men.”_

                “…what do you mean by energy?” But he already knew the answer, even before the question left his lips. He looked down at Charles again and paled. Shaking, but resolute, he left the man where he was, marching back down the dark halls.

                None of his companions were currently in uniform, meaning Hank wasn’t able to use communicators to warn them.

                _“You will try to stop us. But you will fail.”_

                “I’m not going to let you suck these people dry. Abort your mission, find your energy source somewhere else.”

                _“We have consumed stars…planets…entire solar systems. We are the fire of life eternal…you will not impede us.”_

                “The hell I won’t.”

 

**

 

                The pawns were all moving into place.

                Phoenix watched them scramble to and fro across the little stage below, grinning with almost manic giddiness as she sensed their minds. The hum of it was strange, unnerving and over stimulating to the point of near intoxication.

                Hovering there in the air, she laughed and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling an electric shiver run through her. There was so much life to these people, energy and sensation, thoughts and feelings…things the Phoenix had gone eons without feeling, traveling through the cold black void of space.

                She had never been this close before; none of her previous hosts had possessed a mind like that of Jean Grey’s. A mind that could sense, feel and touch others. A mind that could bend the very fabric of reality. Her powers were immense; a deep untapped reservoir that had been locked inside this fragile human form.

                No longer.

                Jean had never felt so complete or whole. It was as if all that had been missing from her life was suddenly brought together. This was what it was to truly set her power free, to be her true self…

                No more lies. No more expectations. No more limits.

                Her eyes spotted Storm moving across the grounds, growing closer to where she was sending Wolverine. She couldn’t have her interrupting things again.

                She swooped down towards the woman, falling in line behind her as she soared. The Phoenix could sense the energy source within Ororo, not just her natural life force but also that of her own extraordinary power.

                “Ororo,” she called in Jean’s familiar tones.

                 Storm turned in surprise, drifting to a halt. She knew that Jean was indeed able to telekinetically lift herself temporarily, but she had never seen her _fly_ before. The red haired woman grinned at her.

                “Surprised?”

                “Nothing about you surprises me lately,” Ro answered cautiously. “Why aren’t you with Charles?”

                “You don’t think that I’m actually tethered to that withered old man, do you?”

                Storm descended slowly to the ground, prompting Jean to do so as well. “Hank told me everything. You can’t be trusted. You’re not yourself.”

                “You’re very right about that, Wind-Rider.”

                Ororo shivered as Jean’s voice altered just slightly, and she saw the tell-tale flash of unfamiliar gold in her eyes.

                “Return my friend to me, Phoenix. Or I’ll make you sorry you ever came to this planet.” Storm’s eyes whitened, sparks of lightning danced from her finger tips and crackled across her skin like she was a live-wire. The Phoenix’s grinned broadened in excitement and her body began to shimmer and ignite as Storm charged angrily forward, sending an atmospheric charge barreling straight at the woman’s chest.

                The blast would have been enough to send even the stoutest fighter to their knees. But the Phoenix seemed to devour it, absorbing the energy into her being, howling with the excitement of it.

                “YES! Is that all you’ve got, girl?! Hit me again, let me savor this thing you call rage!”

                The air around her crackled and sizzled, sucking up all the moisture, threatening to char and singe anything that came too close.

                Storm screamed, drawing back and raising into the air again, summoning winds of hurricane force to try to blow the woman off her feet. Phoenix shivered and wavered, trying to hold her ground. Her host body struggled, finally over taken by the wind and brought spinning into the air.

                Ro took her chance, counting on her to be disoriented and drew in swift and hard, landing a fierce punch across the woman’s torso, then back and then to the backs of her knees. Storm knew how to fight, in any form, and she wasn’t afraid to make it personal when the situation demanded.

                The Phoenix howled at the physical blows she was dealt. This was a new experience all together and she did not care for it.  She screeched and turned her firepower against the other Mutant. Storm would have been engulfed in flames had she not quickly diverted them with another blast of wind. Still she felt the scorch of the fire on her palms, gritting her teeth in pain as they blistered.

                Finally she fell back with a yelp, sinking to the ground, panting and sweating.

                “If you continue this fight, wind goddess, you will suffer. Neither of us wish that.”

                Storm spat at her, “You’re pissing me off.”

                She stomped her foot upon the ground and thunderclap rattled them both, making Phoenix screech again, clapping her hands to ears. Lightning showered from the sky down upon them, striking the earth all around Jean, causing it crack and crumble into a crater, into which the possessed telepath fell.

                Storm summoned a cloud burst upon them, followed by freezing wind. Jean felt ice forming across her wet skin and screamed at the way it bit and burned her. But the scream was not exactly that of pain, but at a sort of euphoric terror.

                “Are we done here?!” the dark skinned woman called.

                The mutant below her simply smiled at her; “Far from.”

                With a flare of light and fire from her body, the ice and water evaporated in a rush of steam that sent Storm stumbling backwards. This time, before she could recover, the Phoenix was rushing at her.

                She raised her fists to strike her again, ignoring the pain in her raw and blistered hands. But instead of striking her, Phoenix grabbed each side of her head.

                Storm started to scream, only to have the sound choked off. Jean-or Phoenix—or whatever and whomever she was now, was in her mind, overloading it, unlocking her mind so that all her memories, all her thoughts, all her secrets and desires were flung wide open to her.  It was an overload like Storm had never endured and she seized and shook in Jean’s hands.

                _“Ro…I don’t want to hurt you…”_

                “You’re killing me…!”

                _“No! STOP!”_

                Phoenix pulled away abruptly, feeling a sudden shift in its power and commanding consciousness.  Storm slumped in her hands and collapsed to the earth, drained and motionless. Trembling, Jean reached out with her mind to touch hers again.

                The woman upon the ground was in shock, and would likely remain incapacitated for the time being, but she was still alive.

                Within her, the Phoenix Force churned and grew, absorbing the power and life it had managed to take from Ororo before she had stopped her. And with this new power, her influence only grew.

                Jean turned her attentions towards the forest where she had sent Logan and was about to follow, when she became aware of the thoughts of someone else Jean recognized. Focusing her powers, she quickly discerned the presence of Cyclops and Gambit within the lake house.

                They had been unaffected by her physic suggestions within the mansion. If Beast were to catch up to them to seek help, they could pose and actual threat. She wasn’t going to allow that.

 

**

 

                Back at the lake house, they heard the sounds of disturbance coming from the grounds. Cautiously the two men made their way out onto the roof-top porch, trying to discern the location of the disturbance.

                “Sounds to me like Wolvie and Storm may have run into some trouble,” Gambit cautioned. “Best go investigate.”

                Scott nodded as they retreated inside, Remy grabbing his cards and Scott digging in his jacket pocket for his visor to replace his sunglasses. He trotted down the steps from the loft, fumbling with the wrist communicator he had also thought to bring.

                “Warren? Betsy? Can anyone here me? What’s going--?”

                He looked up, startled by a sudden warmth and light and saw Jean standing there before him, baring the main doorway of the house.

                Scott froze, and started to raise the alarm, but she held her finger up to her lips. “Shhh.”

                Cyclops blinked and wavered on his feet, overwhelmed by a sudden head rush. He caught his balance on the arm of a chair and steadied himself, trying to force away the vertigo and dizziness that threatened to cause a black out.

                A few seconds past, and Scott heard his name, followed by quick footsteps. Remy was beside him, taking his shoulders. “Scott! You alright?”

                Cyclops looked up, glancing into Remy’s concerned face. His eyes slid behind the handsome man, looking back towards the door, but there was nothing there.

                “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” He answered. His eyes centered on Gambit’s face, drinking in his features, consumed by the detail of them and wanting to be closer.

                “Did you reach anybody? Dey say what de trouble was?”

                “Yeah…Hank says it’s nothing. Storm is helping him with the electrical issue.” He put a warm hand on Remy’s bicep. “They don’t need us. Everything’s under control.”

                Gambit didn’t seem so sure, however, glancing back towards the window. There was no more sound, or sign of disturbance, but that in and of itself seemed to be strange. “T’ink maybe we should go have a look anyway? Students must be getting antsy inside with no power…”

                “Remy,” Scott said quite seriously then. “Stay with me.”

                He flushed faintly at the soft intensity of the words, the way Scott’s eyes were so fixed on his, the heat he felt suddenly rise between them. Remy felt a little quiver in his stomach as his empathy easily caught onto the strength of Scott’s feelings towards him. Feelings, Remy realized, that were not sudden. Things that had been quietly brewing under the surface for sometime now, gaining potency.

                “Scott, sil te plait…” he mumbled, trying to push it down, afraid that he could be overwhelmed by the link that unintentionally forming between them. “I can’t do dis. You know I can’t.”

                “I know you don’t need me,” the other man replied, standing toe to toe with the tall southerner, gripping his hand lightly, “You have everything. But I need you, Remy. Please…I’m so tired of pushing everything down, of ignoring my instincts out of fear. I don’t want to do that anymore. For once I just want to be with someone I love.”

                Remy was startled by the word. He almost pulled back, but Scott leaned in and kissed him, firmly and passionately.

                Gambit gasped against his lips, and for a moment it was like his mind completely short-circuited. All his confusion and his concern about Logan and Ororo suddenly vanished. Even the names seemed oddly vague and meaningless in his mind. There was only Scott, and the sudden, overwhelming outpouring of adoration and affection that was coming from him. Gambit was drunk on it instantly, lost and disoriented.

                He kissed Scott back, allowing the kiss to deepen, pulling the man in close to him and putting his arms around his shoulders and back, happy to be swept away by the warm impulse.

                Scott loved the taste of the other man’s mouth, the way the faint stubble on his cheeks and chin brushed against his own. He loved the way Remy teased him with his tongue and kept him close with his hands. He loved the feel of his skin and the smell of his hair. He felt himself already achingly hard, pressed against the man’s hip.

                He broke away with effort, hands in Remy’s hair, smiling with wet lips as the other man panted faintly. “Let’s go upstairs.”

                Remy nodded with lusty little grin and took his hand, leading him back up the short steps to the loft above. Upon doing so, the Cajun felt a faint head rush of his own, the room seemed dark and faintly out of focus, and oddly barren. As if something had been removed without his knowledge.

                There was a faint nagging voice in the far recesses of his mind that told him something was wrong, but it was easy to ignore when he felt Scott slip up behind him, mouth on the nap of his neck, hands across his chest, moving down to his abdomen and grabbing the hem of his shirt before pulling it up over his head.

                Remy shivered as the man explored his skin with his mouth and his lips, keeping him pressed close against him. He could feel Scott’s hot erection pressed against his tailbone and whimpered slightly. His own cock was growing needier by the second, and he teased Scott by rocking back into him and moving one of his hands closer to his waistband of his jeans.

                Scott sighed and licked his neck before turning the Cajun’s head towards him to steal a kiss, his other hand reaching to undo the fly of Remy’s jeans, delving inside to touch him directly. Gambit’s hips bucked in response as Scott gripped him with a bare hand, pushing beneath his boxers without hesitation.

                “We don’t have to rush…” Remy cooed, facing becoming more flushed as Scott stroked him slowly, sending another fresh rush of blood to his loins.

                “I can’t wait anymore.” Scott answered. Remy turned and pulled Scott out of his shirt as well, kissing down the man’s chest until he was seated on the edge of the bed. He pulled Summers closer by his belt loops and took his time pulling his pants down over his narrow, defined hip bones, exposing him completely as he tugged the fabric down past his thighs.

                Remy touched him softly, experimentally, and Scott whimpered, bracing himself against the man’s shoulders as Gambit teased and stroked him, making him throb in his hand. “Too much?” Remy asked, feeling the way the man was shaking.

                “Not enough.”

                Scott took his shoulders and pushed him back down flat on the bed. He climbed over top him, kicking his pants off as he went, and kissed him hungrily again. Remy wrapped himself around him eagerly, arching up into Scott’s slightly thicker frame to maintain more contact and friction between them. “You feel so good…”

                “Shhh cher…”

                It felt strange to call Scott that. It felt like a name meant for another. Scott licked and bit at the place between his neck and shoulder, a place that was marked with a faint ring of scars. The odd feeling intensified, and Remy tried to focus on it, but it kept eluding him.

                “Scott…”

                Summers was moving down his torso, kissing and licking, wanton but not rough. His fingers scrapped down Remy’s ribs and sides, sending little electric shivers through him before he settled between his thighs, gripping him first and then licking him.

                Remy groaned and reached for him, as if trying to slow him down. Scott glanced up at him for a moment before dipping his head and taking the man in slowly and fully, sucking lightly. Remy cried out again, face going darker red. “Mmm! Scott!”

                He wasted little time with teasing, developing a steady but intense rhythm with his mouth and hands, keeping Remy gasping and completely stimulated. His fingers moved beneath the man, lightly brushing against him, earning another staggered rasp of breath.

                He looked up at the Cajun with slight nervousness, not sure if he would be allowed this. Remy gazed at him a moment, biting his lip and then flung his arm out across the bed, reaching for the bedside drawer. He fumbled with it clumsily and found a bottle of lube.

                Scott moved up, kneeling on the bed as he took the bottle from Gambit’s hands. He slicked his fingers up, and then pulled Remy’s hips into his lap, stroking him again while his other hand started to circle and probe him.

                Remy did his best to relax but his fingers were still gripped hard to the bed, one bracing itself on Scott’s thigh as the man pushed through the ring of muscle, gently working in and out of him. “Oh mon Dieu…Scott I’m gonna cum…”

                “Not yet, baby…”

                Remy groaned, not knowing if he could hold back. For someone who hadn’t had gay sex very often, Scott Summers were surprisingly talented in the arena. The man kept bringing him to the edge with his hands, then slowing down just enough to deny him release.

                “ahhha! Scott….please, please…! So good…please…”

                Scott didn’t deny he had dreamed of those words, said with that same needy tone. But it wasn’t just about sex, it wasn’t just about getting Remy to cry his name. Scott needed more. He removed his fingers, leaning over the man again and kissing him.

                “I want to be inside you.”

                Gambit hesitated briefly, unsure why, but then nodded.

                “I won’t hurt you.”

                “I know, cher.” Remy kissed him. He link between them was more solid than ever and Remy could feel how much the man wanted to make him feel good, not just in bed but all the time. Scott was in love, the kind of head-over-heels love that was so swept up in blinding joy and optimism that it was hard to imagine anything other than feeling completely whole, safe and perfect together.

                It was a potent feeling, almost a toxic one. Remy couldn’t think, he just surrendered to it. Scott slicked himself up thoroughly and then positioned himself against him, pushing slowly. Gambit groaned and sighed hotly as the man sunk into him, watching Scott’s face as he nearly lost it in the process.

                “Oh God!” he rasped. It was hotter and tighter than he anticipated and he shook, feeling himself pulse and throb against Remy’s tight insides.

                “Scott, don’t stop.”

                His lover nodded, pulling back slightly and then rocking forward. Remy let out a long quiet sigh, grinning happily. It was the best feeling, being taken and consumed, worshiped and adored. He loved it. He always had.

                “Fuck me good…”

                Scott’s face grew redder and he picked up the pace, not wanting to falter here and leave Remy unsatisfied. He once the motions became easier, slicker and smoother, he leaned over the man, pinning his wrists above his head as he slammed their bodies together again and again.

                “Oh God…oh God…L—“ the word died on his lips, broken off by a cry of pleasure as Scott pushed harder and faster. But Remy knew he wasn’t about to say Scott’s name. No it was someone else’s. He felt that pang of confusion, that anxiousness that he was missing something. For a very brief moment, looking over Scott’s shoulder, he thought he saw someone else in the room, someone watching them.

                His heart leapt, he felt a sudden rush of fear.

                “Scott!”

                The other man covered his mouth with his, picking up speed yet again until he was pounding Remy’s prostrate so constantly that the sensation was almost as pleasurable as it was painful. His body spasmed with sensitivity, he was so close to orgasm he could barely breathe. He shut his eyes tight against the onslaught, and the strange image vanished from his mind.

                “Remy…Remy look at me…”

                The Cajun opened his eyes, which were darkened with lust and unfocused, drunk on too many sensations, too many emotions.

                “Remy I love you.”

                Gambit didn’t speak, he just stared at him, possessed by him. His fingers tangled with Scott’s and he sunk his teeth into his lip, unable to hold it anymore. Orgasm hit him in waves, wrenching a long loud groan from his throat. He splattered between their bodies and Scott moaned, staying buried deep inside him, trying to draw out the sensation longer, until Remy was rasping and almost screaming from overstimulation.

                Scott pulled out then to allow him reprieve, gripped himself hard, stroking frantically until he finished as well across Remy’s twitching skin and then slumped with a groan beside him, head against his shoulder.

                The pair lay there quivering and gasping for air, sweat slick and covered in climax. Remy’s legs were useless, he was hot and dizzy. Scott put an arm around his torso and kept him close. “I love you…oh I love you…”

                Still Remy didn’t answer but the kissed the man’s lips softly to quiet him. “Scott…” his eyes slipped around the room, trying to focus, trying to discern the strange nagging feeling in the back of his mind. “Scott…something’s not right…”

                “You’re here…everything is perfect.”

                Remy fought against the tide of the man’s affections, needing to make sense. It seemed like there was something that they needed to be doing, that someone needed them…there was a name, and face just out of the reaches of his mind, as if clothed in shadow. Every time he tried to clarify it, his head ached and he felt the urge to sleep.

                Scott was already dozing beside him, but Remy continued to squirm. Scott kept saying he loved him, yet Gambit resisted the idea of it. Why? He felt like he couldn’t say it, not because he didn’t care for Scott but because that declaration belonged to someone else…

                He sat up, feeling heavy and weak. His knees shook and his skin was sticky. His eyes drifted towards the closet and he noticed an old flannel shirt there, aged and weathered…

                “Logan. Ororo.”

                The room came into sharp definition and he realized with a drop of his pulse what he had just done. From the corner of the loft room, a woman appeared, grinning at him, arms folded across her chest.

                “That dirty little mind of yours is more impressive than I gave it credit for.” Jean said.

                Remy tensed, wide eyed. “What…what did you do!?”

                “Nothing.” Jean answered. “Don’t look at me as though I am Nathaniel Essex, Remy LeBeau. Nothing you did here was against your free will, or his. I simply removed the barriers between you. Now Scott can be happy…and you want that. Don’t you Remy?”

                Gambit reached for a projectile, but the woman was on him in a second, grabbing him by the back of the head. Remy spasmed as she forced her way into his mind again, in a far more brutal manner this time. Everything burned as the Phoenix drained him, and then let him fall.

                The cosmic being thrilled at the immense energy pool it had tapped into within Gambit, and it’s hunger only grew. It looked at the helpless man upon the sheets and craved to finish him. But it was Jean’s consciousness that stopped it.

                “No…no, don’t hurt him. I don’t want this, I don’t want—“

                _“What do you want, Jean?”_

                The red-haired woman stilled for a moment and then nodded resolutely, “No more distractions.” She glanced at Scott and felt a deep pang of remorse. She reached out and brushed her finger tips lightly over his hair for a moment, then turned left them alone again.

 

***

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**

                 

The house they had lived in was a small one room cabin, designed for the workers who ran the sawmill where they had worked. It had sat on top of the hill, at the edge of the thick pine forest beyond, looking down on the mill below.

                Logan had learned his first trade here. It was the first time in his life he had ever worked for a living as well, unlike Victor, who had labored since he was old enough to carry and understand direction. But even then, he was still a strange a sickly creature, who grappled with his odd powers.

                Creed had encouraged his feral activities, and in early days after they had fled their home, he had pushed for their continued isolation, proclaiming that they needed nothing and no one but themselves. He was quickly proved otherwise, by Logan’s failing health and if it hadn’t been for Rose…

                Standing outside the little house, he heard her approach up the hill, laundry basket in her hand, skirts and hair ruffling in the wind. Tucking her hair behind her ear she beamed at him as she approached.

                Logan smiled back at her, just as genuinely and reached for the basket from her hands.

                “Thank you,” she nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

                “Of course, darlin’.” He answered, following her through the door. She moved towards the black kettle stove, where she had a large cast iron pot bubbling with stew. Rabbit and potatoes and the last of the carrots from the summer harvest. The little room was bright and homey and most of all warm, much warmer than the bright early fall chill outside. There was the smell of snow on the wind, and they speculated the first snow fall would hit by morning, even if all the leaves were still on the trees.

                He put the wicker basket down on her bed and began to riffle through the blankets and bedding as she poked at the coals inside the stove and stirred the pot. He could feel her gaze on his back. “Snow will be coming in,” he spoke, “Got lots of meat in the shed to cure, herbs and such too for ya, if ye like. The boys say that once it starts fallin’ it takes days to stop, best get comfortable.”

                “I have everything I need right here,” the woman behind him said. He chuckled softly at the joke and glanced over his shoulder at her, expecting her to be smirking at him in that familiar way. Instead, he was surprised to find her standing directly behind him, touching his back and his shoulders, nuzzling up against him.

                “I’ve waited a long time for it to just be the two of us.” She sounded relieved, her voice shaking slightly. Logan touched her hand and turned to face her, but surprised her by not drawing her in closer. “Darlin’…you’re talking strange today. Did somethin’ happen?”

                She smiled and stroked her fingers through the dark hair at his temples. “You don’t have to push it away anymore. I know how you feel, Logan. I’ve known it for a long time. And I know you’ve been afraid…but you don’t have to be anymore.”

                He took her hands again, looking at her nervously, cheeks flushed faintly. “Rosey…it’s not like that.” He glanced back at the other empty bed across the room, the one that sat next to his. Victor’s bed. His stomached turned faintly with a sense of shame and twisted loyalty. “You know…you know what I am, darlin’. And you know how I can be when…the animal in me takes over. What kind of husband would that be? I don’t want that for you.”

                “It’s my choice.” She answered, a bit more earnestly. “And I choose you, Logan.”

                “Stop…calling me that.” He muttered, pulling away from her grasp at last. His head throbbed, the world seemed somewhat unsteady beneath his feet. “Why do you keep calling me Logan?”

                The woman stood still a moment, staring and somehow breathless. The cabin seemed to fade a little around them, it’s edges and sharp clarity softening, losing detail and definition. Wolverine felt a growing sense of displacement, and growing suspicion.

                “I’m so stupid…” she whispered. “She called you James. Of course. She called you James.”

                Wolverine suddenly remembered himself and squared his shoulders, taking stock of the woman before him. “Jean. This is…” he exhaled sharply, wrapping his arms around him, fists balled, trying not erupt. “Stop it. Stop it now.”

                “Logan, wait—“

                “My memories aren’t scraps you can just rearrange however you want!” he barked at her. “Goddammit! Look…look where we are! Are we in my head or…is this the Danger Room? How the fuck did I even get here…” he looked at her bitterly. “Why are you trying to be her?”

                “I…I didn’t mean to. Not at first.” The woman explained quietly. For the first time in a long time, she seemed like herself, like the woman he had met when he first came to Xavier’s. The sophisticated, polished young woman who had seen far too little of the world, and far too little of her own kind. “When I entered your mind, the first time we met…trying to calm you down…everything was such a mess. I latched onto a broken thought. A piece of wreckage in your mind. The woman named Rose. You could barely remember her face, or her voice… she was like a ghost. But there was something good about her you were clinging to, something that anchored you to your humanity. So I used it. I had to.”

                “Don’t try to justify this…” he muttered. “Is there anything left of who she was? Or is it all you now?”

                “The feelings you have are real, and yours. Just yours, I swear it.” She wiped at the moisture gathering at the corner of her eyes. “I thought you loved her.”

                “I did.”

                “Then…why--?”

                “Cause I didn’t want to _sleep_ with her!” he shouted. “She took care of me. Like a mother or a sister. My own mother; I don’t remember her much. Just the sound of her screaming at me that night I got my claws. She hated me after that. Bur Rose, knew what I was. A dirty, weak, wild little beast…and she loved me anyway.”

                His throated burned and tightened. “The Professor helped me recover those memories. Probably why you didn’t know about it. Probably why you thought you could keep using her to bait me.” He looked heartbroken by the idea. He had trusted Jean, despite everything.

                The cabin and the pine barrens vanished, piece by piece, fading away into reality again. The forest still surrounded them, revealing how far they were from the school. Logan sniffed the air. He and Jean were alone. But as he looked at her now, she still did not appear as expected.

                He felt heat coming off her, like a solar aura that permeated her being down to its core. And as she gazed at him, the guilty and contrite expression she had worn moments ago had vanished into a strange sort of stoic gaze, almost as if she were some goddess, being complained and pleaded with by a lowly mortal servant.

                He could sense that her smell had changed. She was not herself, in fact, he was not even entirely sure now that she was even the same person. “What the hell happened to you?”

                “Call it fate, if it makes you feel any better.” She answered. “But I think we both know that the universe often favors chance over destiny.” She tried to move in closer to him and he shuffled back like a wary animal. “Humans are strange. Mutants stranger still. Your energy is so sensitive to change, so easily manipulated by emotions. This was unbeknownst to us, until now.”

                “Us?” Wolverine grunted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “The body you see before you is that of the woman Jean Grey. But you speak with the Phoenix. Do you not recognize my power, Mutant? Do you not sense the fire of creation from which you were spawned?”

                Logan did sense something powerful before him, and his instincts were screaming at him to run from it. But he ignored them, stubbornly. Whatever the Phoenix was, he refused to be moved by it. Not until he had answers.

                “Yer that big fireball that lit me and Jeanie up a few nights ago. Yeah… I know what you can do. And you don’t scare me.”

                “I terrify you.”

                “Point is, you’ve been making trouble around here ever since ya came. I don’t know what yer bumming around this rock for, but I will tell ya that I take personal offense to anyone messing with me and mine. Now how about you let the lady go.”

                Negotiating with a deity…something new he could add to his list of insane ventures.

                Phoenix smiled. “She invited me here. Of all the telepathic voices that stretch out into the void, hers was the loudest. I followed it here. She saved me. And I will return the favor.”

                “Yeah? Well I’d still feel better if I heard it from her.”

                “Logan, she isn’t lying.”

                The shift was subtle but noticeable and Logan jumped forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and tried to pull her along behind him, as if they could somehow outrun the thing inside her. But she yanked free, knocking him back with a telekinetic thrust that sent him skidding along the grass. “What are you doing?”

                “Trying to get you back to the Professor! To Cerbro! To get that damn thing out of your head before it makes you do anymore crazy shit!”

                She looked at him with a gaze that would curdle milk. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Phoenix has forced me to do _nothing._ It’s simply given me the strength to push back.”

                The feral snarled, “Can’t tell ya how sorry I am to hear that.” He lunged at her then, hoping to catch her off guard, to stun her and take her down before any real damage could be done. But she anticipated his move, and blocked him easily, countering the attack and throwing him back through the air again, sending him up through the branches and then crashing back down to earth with a solid THUMP.

                His heavy body created a sizable divot in the earth and he shook the dirt and pine needles from himself before pushing himself up, ready for round two. But he found he couldn’t move at all then, forcibly pinned by her telekinetic power.

                He struggled against it, forcing all his focus and will into making some kind of movement, of regaining control. But Phoenix wasn’t even breaking a sweat. She came closer to him, with strange, hungry, covetous eyes.

                “I don’t understand why you deny your feelings.”

                “Only feelings I got right now are pissed and more pissed,” he grunted.

                “You desire this body,” Phoenix answered, shifting again into Jean’s more natural form. “I have seen it in your mind. Do not deny it.”

                “You’re twisting things around,” Wolverine grunted again, still frozen in the dirt, only able twitch in her psychic hold.

                She didn’t answer him, moving closer until she was crouched in front of him. She studied him for a moment with strange eyes that shifted from green to gold and back again, and then crawled over top of him, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him.

                Logan found himself unable to resist, compelled to yeild with her will. Anger swelled inside him, though he couldn’t express it, and it was only when Jean finally broke contact for a second that he was able to protest; “Don’t do this, Jean. You’ll regret it forever…”

                “I know regret, Wolverine. I have lived with it every day; regretting my choices, regretting not taking chances. Regretting not listening to my own instincts…letting my life be dictated by the ambitions of a wistful old man and his protégé, neither of whom saw me for what I was. I’m not doing it anymore, Logan!”

                She gripped him a bit more forcefully, “Now I take what I want.”

 

***

 

                Kurt and Kitty moved anxiously along the grounds, watching the house as they edged their way closer and closer to the property, trying to discern what to do next. The power remained off within the vast mansion before them, but lights and sound crackled on and off across the grounds, just out of sight from them.

                “Kitty,” Kurt mumbled nervously next to her, “What do we do if we find Jean and she…she’s not herself?”

                Beside him, the young brunette swallowed dryly and set her features into a firm, determined frown. “Then we remember our training.”

                “But we’re not training to fight each other! Not like this!”

                “It’s no different than facing off against Magneto or Mystique or any of those jerks…”

                “But it’s Jean!”

                She nodded again, feeling nervous, angry tears in her eyes. “Believe me…I know.”

                They continued to walk on for a moment in the dark, and then she felt him slip his odd, three-fingered hand into hers and squeeze lightly. In the dark she could barely back out his face, but she could see the yellow glow of his eyes.

                “It will be okay.”

                She nodded to him, trying to pull him in closer.

                CRASH! WHUMP!

                Both let out a sharp gasp of surprise when they heard the abrupt eruption of glass being shattered, followed by sound of something heavy hitting the ground. Both of the young Mutants fell into a defensive stance as the sound continued to approach, becoming more and more like heavy footfalls.

                Kurt faded into shadow, almost completely vanished from sight, while Kitty allowed her tangibility to slip in just slightest. If anything were to strike her now, it would pass right through her.

                A shape started to take form as approached them through the dark. “Kurt? Kitty!”

                 Their defense dropped when they recognized the tones of Dr. Henry McCoy, who now came upon them in the dark.

                “Hank! You’re alright!”

                “As well off as you I suppose,” Beast answered, his voice more guttural than usual as he stood, pulled up to his full towering height, sniffing the air and trying to determine the vulnerability of their position. “Are there any more of you out here on the grounds? Everyone inside is incapacitated.”

                “Jubilee, Bobby and Rogue are headed towards the lake house,” Kitty answered. “We saw Scott heading that way too.”

                At this Hank’s ears perked and his golden eyes widened momentarily in the dark. “We had better reach them quickly then,” he nodded and motioned for the younger Mutants to follow him. They crept along in the dark, under heavy, churning skies with clouds so black it was as if night had fallen prematurely.

                The ground beneath them was wet and saturated from the heavy rain, and mud squelched under their feet, making a silent approach impossible.

                “Why is Jean doing this?” Kurt whispered.

                “She’s possessed,” Hank answered. “By a force far beyond our scope of understanding. The Phoenix Force, it calls itself. Fire and Life Incarnate it claims…it’s some celestial being…which apparently came to our world, looking for a host to house its dying form so that it could regenerate.”

                “Am I allowed to say that sounds crazy?” Kitty asked. “Because it sounds crazy.”

                “Whatever it sounds like, Katherine, dear, it’s very, very real. And I fear that if we do not find a way to separate Jean and the Phoenix we may lose her entirely…and what she’ll do then…I fear even more.”

                Shadow Cat and Nightcrawler looked nervously at one another. Abruptly, Hank stopped in front of them, holding a hand up to signal them to stop. He sniffed the air, squinting at something ahead, then darted forward at a run, then a sprint, then a full out gallop.

                He skidded to a halt next to a body in the grass, which was that of Ororo Munroe’s. Hank shouted in shock at finding her in such condition and picked her up gingerly in his big hands.  The woman became responsive immediately to Hank’s touch, although her movements were sluggish and pained at first.

                “Your hands…!” Hank gasped, seeing the woman’s blistered and raw palms.

                Storm let her head fall against Hank’s broad, naked shoulder, feeling his fur against her skin. “I fought her off as long as I could, but…she was everywhere, inside my mind, overloading everything…” it seemed too much to process and her breath hitched momentarily in panic, but she stifled it back, burrowing her face against him for a moment as she tried to collect herself.

                Hank held her protectively, shaken. “You’re alright now, Ro.” He wished he could say something more assuring, but the words failed. He didn’t know how to protect her, or any of them, from what Jean had become.

                Ororo nodded and drew herself up again. Hank helped her to stand and steadied her for a moment as she regained her bearings. “Storm…are you--?” It was clear that the psychic intrusion into her mind had caused a cascade of turmoil in Storm’s mind and Hank feared that she was compromised.

                She knew it as she looked at him, but she did not relent or back down. Falling apart was not an option. “She’s after Logan,” she said, when her voice felt steady enough. “We can’t let her corner him.”

                Hank nodded, “I think it best we take her on together—we’re less likely to be overwhelmed.” He looked nervously towards the lake house. “Scott was headed towards the lake, I think we’d better make sure everything is alright there and collect him and Remy before we move on.”

                Storm nodded in agreement and they started off again, moving in close formation across the grounds. But there was no sign of Jean, though all of them sensed that she was somehow still close by. Or maybe it was just fear, heightening their paranoia.

                As they came closer to the house, they saw movement from outside. Jubilee came rushing from the front door, grabbing both Hank and Ororo by the hands. “Thank God you guys are okay! We can’t find Logan and…I don’t know…I think something might have happened to Remy and Scott.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “We can’t wake them up! Remy’s got this weird burn on him and Scott—“ They were moving hurriedly up the stairs and into porch as she spoke, only to see Bobby come stomping past them through the front door, his body changing into ice form as he moved. The look on his face was angry and devastated.

                “Bobby?!”

                He didn’t respond and Storm turned and caught is shoulder. “Bobby, what’s wrong?”

                “Don’t!” he yelped, shaking her off angrily. A second later he winced with remorse at his reaction, but this only caused him to clench his teeth and his fist and move faster.

                “Bobby!” Storm called again and hesitated, glancing at Hank. But the larger feral was already making his way inside, nodding to her that she should follow him.

                Jubilee remained beside him as Hank lumbered up the short, steep loft steps, lifting himself into the upper loft. The sight that greeted him was enough to knock the wind out of him.

                Scott had regained consciousness at some point, and was kneeling on the bed next to Gambit, who remained otherwise. The unconscious man was naked, while the man next to him looked like he had been like wise until moments ago, when the appearance of Bobby and the others had prompted him to cover himself.

                Rogue stood nervously next to the bed, “I-I can’t wake him up…”

                Scott looked at Beast, helpless and exasperated. “Hank, help me with him--”

                McCoy bounded towards him, grabbing the smaller man and pinning him hard against the wall, suspending him there with one large hand. Rogue and Jubilee screamed at the sudden outburst, startled by Hank’s display of aggression towards another teammate.  He growled and barred his fangs at the man. _“What did you do?”_

                “Hank! Hank let ‘im go!” Rogue shouted, pulling at the man’s large furry arm, soon joined by Jubilee. Rogue’s strength made him relent, causing Scott to slide down the wall.

                “I-I-I didn’t…I didn’t do anything…” Summers coughed, rubbing his offended throat.

                “L’enfer…!”

                Remy announced himself with a curse and groan, rolling over with a groan and pushing himself up on the mattress. Hank moved away from Scott, seemingly having completely forgotten the man and quickly tucked the bedspread over Remy’s lower half, bracing him as lightly with his other hand.

                “Remy? Are you--?”

                “I’m…I’m fine.” The Cajun stuttered, flushing faintly at finding himself naked in a room full of people, half of them minors. He looked to Scott, wide eyed and concerned. “Scott, you okay?”

                “Will someone please tell us what’s going on?!” Jubilee interjected, her frustration growing more evident as panic and confusion threatened to overwhelm the situation. “Why-why were you two like that?! What happened to you?”

                “Jean,” Gambit answered. “Jean, she was here…something bad wrong with her…” he winced as he looked down at the red, blistered burn on his naked shoulder.

                “Ladies, go down and check on Storm and Iceman. Keep your guard up.”

                Neither girl wanted to move, but the look on Beast’s face told them not argue. The moment their footsteps became muffled by the distance, McCoy squared his shoulders.

                “I need real answers. Right now.”

                Scott glared back at him, “This isn’t what you’re trying to make it out to be, Henry. Frankly, I’m more than insulted you think that little of me.”

                “I’m sorry Scott, but I have to go by facts. You’ve always shown a particular weakness when it comes to Gambit’s Charm. Is that what happened here?”

                “Non…it wasn’t like that.” Remy replied quickly. It was the first time Hank had ever seen him look this way, nervous and guilty, not to mention confused. “Wasn’t my power dat got de best of us…it was something she did. She messed with something in our heads…”

                “Then it _was_ coerced.”

                “No!”

                Both Scott and Hank were taken aback by the force of Remy’s rejection to the idea. He fumbled again, wincing at the throb in his head and the burning ache in his shoulder. “Was like…she did something that made us forget about everything else. Made us impulsive and…” he looked only at Scott then, feeling his pulse quicken. “I think it made us say t’ings that were a bit foolish…t’ings maybe we didn’t mean.”

                Scott didn’t answer, but just kept his eyes locked on Remy. The Empath could still feel lingering bits of his emotions through the faded link between them and his pulse quickened faintly when he realized that maybe Scott had actually _meant_ what he said.

                Hank was at a loss, looking between the two. “Remy, both you and Storm were hurt when the Phoenix confronted you. But Scott, you appear unscathed.”

                Remy’s heart dropped further into his stomach. “Storm’s hurt?! Where is she--?” He was up and trying to move towards the stairs, but Hank blocked him.

                “Slow down. Get dressed and let me look at that burn. Scott, if you’re well enough to walk you might want to head below. Ororo and I have reason to believe the Phoenix is going after Wolverine. It’s going to take everyone we have left to stop her.”

                Scott nodded, gathering his clothes. Remy moved around Hank, touching the man’s hand and bringing his attention to him. “Scott,”

                Cyclops looked away hurriedly, but Remy gripped his hand fully in his, tugging him back. “Scott, I need you to look at me. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong…dis wasn’t your fault. Need you to know that, mon ami, alright?”

                “I never saw her,” Cyclops admitted. “How can I trust that any of what I did…”

                “Because _I_ know.” Gambit answered. “Now go…keep de little ones safe. Beast and I be right behind you.”

                Summers nodded, and once he pulled himself together, vanished down the stairs as well.

                Remy could feel it without turning around, without even looking at Hank’s face. He could feel the confusion, the vague sense of scandal and anger, though that was such a muddied and muted feeling that Remy could not tell exactly where it was pointed, as it seemed to saturating his every thought.

                “Come on now, Beast,” he said stiffly. “You can’t t’ink dat we thought this was a good idea. Dat we wanted anything like dis to happen. Jean did somethin’ to us…made us go crazy.”

                “I believe you, Remy.” He adjusted his glasses to have a better look at the wound, nudging the man back over to the bed so that he could examine him better. The close proximity between the two of them was tense, uncomfortable. Hank felt caught between wanting to hold the man and comfort him, and a new sharp spike of jealousy and anger that he couldn’t will away. Why was Remy like this? He was the flame and others were the moth, unaware of his power, unaware of the harm he could do, not just to others but to himself…

                Gambit winced when touched him, though his hands were gentle as they could be. The Cajun looked like he might throw up, the expression on his face was remorseful, sour and raw.

                “Why did she burn you?” McCoy asked.

                “Dunno…can’t remember. She touched me and it was like she was sucking de life out of me. She tapped into something deep… for a moment, didn’t t’ink she’d stop. Sure I was a gonner.” He rubbed his eyes as though he were tired, but Hank could smell the saline in his tears. “Ro, how bad is she?”

                “She fought with Phoenix it seems. Her hands had suffered some moderately severe burns. She seems to have experienced a sort of energy drainage the same as you and Xavier…a pattern I find most distressing.”

                “Dey gonna be alright?”

                Hank nodded, “For now it appears so.” He had covered Remy’s wound sufficiently and handed him his clothing. Beast stood to excuse himself, “Do you think you can fight if need be?”

                “Always.” Gambit answered.

 

**

 

                Jean’s advances were becoming more hungry, more aggressive. The world around them faded in and out of reality and some sort of hybrid construct of a peaceful, dark bedroom that a time resembled Logan’s old cabin and at others different places, varying from her memories to his. He felt her trying to sink him, to put him back into the illusion and make him compliant. But he resisted, harder and harder each time, though it was exhausting.

                The woman was naked on top of him now, trying to entice and excite him, pulling him out of his own clothes. His hands moved across her skin because she willed it, but they shook and their movements were hesitant and halted.

                “Jean—Jeanie—stop. STOP.”

                “I can’t…” she moaned, leaning down to kiss him again, stealing his breath. Her skin was feverish, hot to the touch, and Logan felt it changing and shifting under his fingertips as though it were not completely stable, much like the reality she was trying to maintain around them.

                The need was too much to resist; the Phoenix had never known desire before now. It had never known joy, lust, hate, jealousy or loneliness. But it had encountered these and so many other emotions within the mortal bonds of its human host, and all she interacted with. It was addicting, irresistible. Corrupting.

                When she continued to press, Logan grabbed her forcibly by the arms and tried to throw her off him. But to his great surprise, she resisted his force, pushing back, holding her own for a few moments, before surging forward and pinning both his arms to the ground.

                “I understand your reluctance,” Phoenix quipped. “You desire strength in your mates. That is why Jean failed before—she was not strong enough for you. But Phoenix is everything you crave.”

                “Wrong,” Logan spat, managing to surprise her, getting one of his knees up and rolling himself backwards, kicking the woman away from him as he went.  “I don’t want Jean and I don’t want _you_ , no matter how powerful ya are. It’s not about power, it’s not about force—you don’t know nothin’ about humans or Mutants.”

                “I know that you can be coerced,” she hissed. “I know that you can be tempted.”

                Her body shifted, or attempted to. For a moment she held Storm’s shape, then Remy’s. But each form faltered quickly, reverting back to Jean’s original. Shape-shifting was not in Jean repertoire of powers, and even with the Phoenix’s added elements, it took a toll on her.

                “Damn you Wolverine…” she screeched. “Why won’t you take this body!? Why do you resist?! It was not nearly so hard to erase the inhibitions of your friends Cyclops and Gambit…”

                Logan stilled, tense. “What did you do to them?”

                “Didn’t you know how Scott felt about your treasured Mr. LeBeau? It seems to me that humans enjoy being fooled by themselves. And others.”

                The claws appeared again. She laughed at him. “You won’t use those.”

                “The hell I won’t.”

                She laughed and leapt into the air just as he charged her, claws swinging. She left a fiery trail of sparks and embers in her wake, and as she swooped down upon him, his claws grazed her, wounding her leg.

                She cried out in pain and fumbled in her flight, falling to the earth and crashing there. Logan rushed her, ready to attack, but she held up her hand.

                “LOGAN WAIT!”

                He recognized her eyes and her voice, and changed direction at the last moment, rolling beside her, still on the offensive, watching carefully.

                Jean looked at him franticly, “Logan…Logan, help! You have to stop her, I can’t control her anymore!”

                “Tell me how, Jeanie!”

                “I don’t know!” she shrieked. She was gone again, the Phoenix surging forward and sending a fireball streaking his way. Wolverine was too close, he felt himself burned and singed as he darted further into the wood, sliding on his back down a muddy incline to avoid being burned alive.

                She came after him, causing trees to be uprooted, rocks to rise from earth, all crashing and falling around him, trying to crush him beneath their weight. “I REFUSE TO BE REJECTED, WOLVERINE!”

                He became caught in her telekinetic slip-stream, becoming weightless, drifting through the air without an anchor, slipping between the uprooted trees and boulders. He tried to grab ahold of anything to catch himself and pull away, but she caught sight of him too quickly.

                Logan found himself independently thrust upward through the air, crashing up through branches before being slammed back down into the earth. His bones would have been broken were they not made of adamantium.

                He laid there stunned for a moment, only to feel her heat baring down on him again as she attempted to force herself on him once more. “JEAN! NO!”

                She grabbed either side of his face and neck, her hands scorching his skin. “I will have you, whether you will it or not.”

                “Then you’re no better than Creed,” he snarled.

                The Phoenix blinked in confusion for a moment, but some small part recognized the name. “Remember? Remember when Gambit opened up his Empathic memory to you? Remember what you felt!?”

                She did. It had been horrific, painful—the agonizing helplessness of it, the confusion, shame and betrayal…

                These were things the Phoenix found a great distaste for, these new, more complicated emotions, mixed with all the others that were already overwhelming her consciousness.

                “Look in my head if that ain’t enough for ya, look and see what having your power ripped away from you feels like, what it means to be helpless and forced upon. GO ON. LOOK!”

                He opened his mind, hoping that whatever part of Jean that was still aware and conscious would take the que. He grimaced when he felt both hers and Phoenix’s consciousness intermingle with his own, the two separate entities fighting to separate even while inside his mind.

                Jean was quick to access all of Logan’s darkest memories, not just of the manipulation and violations he had suffered at Creed’s hands, but at other’s as well. The Phoenix revolted at what she saw, terrified of these strange new emotions that a being like her could not fully grasp…the idea of being trapped, the idea of being helpless and worthless…despair, despondency, and rage at all.

                Logan felt like his head was going to explode. Blood was dripping from his nose and ears as he attempted to keep his sanity amongst the battling telepaths who were using his mind as a battleground…

                And just when it felt like all three might be lost in the process—an outside force startled them all apart.

                Small, bright explosions rippled across the ground around them, raining down dirt and gravel and twigs. Bright, searing rays of red light cut through the levitating mine field of forest debris, reducing it to rubble in seconds and clearing a path.

                The Phoenix turned towards on the oncoming threat, only to find herself assaulted by an icy blast of wind, followed immediately by hail and ice, which pelted her body and attempted to adhere itself to her skin, forming a burning cold shell around her.

                She screamed at the sensation, but broke free with another hot burst of light and flame, bolting into the air with a deafening screech.

               

                The moment the Phoenix had fled to the higher ground, Hank and Remy rushed towards the fallen man.

                Wolverine still seemed in a state of shock, unable to speak or move much. But his healing factor was already hard at work, taking care of the physical damage.

                “McCoy! Get him out of here!” Scott yelled, firing into the air, trying to push Phoenix further and further away from them.

                Beast scooped Wolverine into his arms and made his escape as Gambit, Cyclops, Storm and Iceman laid down a barrage of cover for them.

                Above, The Phoenix witnessed this and screamed in frustrated rage again, the firebird itself taking shape around Jean as she levitated. “DO NOT CROSS ME X-MEN! I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER FOR THIS!”

                Cyclops grazed her with one of his optic blasts, causing her to shriek and rain fire down upon them. Storm was able to redirect the flames, fanning them outward and defusing them as quickly as she could, before the entire forest caught fire around them.

                “We’ve got to bring her down!”

                “How do we do that without killing her?!” Scott shouted.

                “We need to bring her down our level!” Remy suggested, “And get Ms. Grey in control again! Den we might stand a chance—“

                She swooped towards them, the world bursting into the fire and light as trees were leveled with a fiery swipe of her hand. Bobby pelted her with another hard blast of ice. But it dissolved quicker than before, and she retaliated, by breathing flames towards him.

                Bobby shouted in pain, his ice form destabilizing, reverting to flesh as he fell. Scott moved in quickly to cover him, driving Jean back with another optic blast that nearly missed striking her in the face.

                “JEAN STOP! STOP THIS! YOU WOULD NEVER HURT US I—“

                “SILENCE!”

                Scott bellowed in pain as she telekinetically struck him, throwing up through the air and sending him crashing against a tree. He tumbled to the ground with a thud and laid still.

                “SCOTT!” Bobby formed a long icepick in his hands and took a swing, slamming it like a bat against her head.

                The woman howled and flipped backwards, finally dropping to the ground again.  Storm rushed her from above, sending a torrent of rain and hail down on her that should have effectively grounded her.

                For a moment it did, but soon she saw hot clouds of steam began to roll off her in large, boiling clouds. Storm was forced to stop the assault and retreat to keep from being scalded, and the moment she did, The Phoenix burst forth again, flying at her with lightning speed.

                Ororo cried out and did her best to brace and defend herself against the woman’s onslaught, but it was a difficult match.

                Jean was pummeling her physically, and also attempting to attack her mind, bringing forth every time Ororo had felt weak or out of control.

                _“Do you really think you can win this battle, Ororo? However angry you feel now, you don’t want to hurt your friend. You are not a killer.”_

_“You shouldn’t be either! But that’s exactly what you mean to do! And I will stop you, whatever it takes!”_

_“You’re prepared to die?! For them!?”_

                “Always,” Storm replied, flipping back and kicking the woman in the face.

                Jean shouted in pain and drifted away, but not before striking out at her opponent again, this time managing to force her to crash downward into the trees.

                “Hang on cherie!” Remy shouted, catapulting himself up along the branches with his staff, reaching out to catch her and pull her to safety as she fell.

                She wrapped her arms around him, singed and bruised.

                “I’ve got you,” he assured.

                “Gambit, we can’t beat her…she’s too strong. We need Charles…”

                They looked back towards the house.

                “If we try to draw her back towards de house, might put de students in more danger,” the Cajun reasoned as he eased her down.

                On the ground, Bobby was trying to pull Scott to his feet, but the man was dazed and seemed to have suffered injury from the fight.

                “What do we do? We’re sitting ducks here!” the blonde panted.

                Remy tapped into the communicator inside his coat, “Kurt, do you read me?”

                _“Yes! Yes we read you! What’s going on in there?!”_

                “We’re getting our collective asses kicked, dat’s what! Need a favor from you and de others, mon ami. See if you can’t bamf your way back inside de mansion and wake up de Professor! We need his help!”

                “ _But what about you?!”_ he heard Jubilee’s frantic voice chime in on the other end of the line.

                “We’ll manage petite!”

                He ended the transmission abruptly, motioning them to follow him as they looked for shelter under the thicker trees.

                “Where are we going?” Bobby panted as he and Scott stumbled along behind them.

                “Trying to lead her away from de house…try to keep your mind blank…sure she’s trying to read our thoughts, figure out our next move before we make it.”

                “That’s easy enough…” Bobby quipped, “all my thoughts are about not shitting myself right now.”

                Scott groaned next to him, holding his ribs, “We should split up…”

                “No, it’s too dangerous,” Storm replied. “We’ve already taken a beating. Alone we stand no chance. We have to find Logan and Hank.”

                No sooner had these words fell from Storm’s lips than a burst of light erupted from the ground just in front of them, blinding them for a moment before sweeping them off their feet. It was as if a bomb had gone off.

                Branches and rocks and clods of dirt and grass rained down on them, pelting and dusting them with the splintered remains. The group lay winded in the aftermath, moaning and fumbling to recollect themselves.

                They heard The Phoenix’s voice inside their minds, as loud and clear as if she were using a loud speaker.

                _“Is this how the X-Men would treat their allies? Their saviors? This pitiful resistance, this sad little rebellion…you disappoint me.”_

“The feeling seems to be mutual!” Hank’s feral voice boomed suddenly behind hers. Beast fell upon the woman and got his thick arms around her, squeezing hard and fast, restricting her movements and her ability to breathe.

                She screamed and struggled, trying to ignite herself and force him away. They could smell burning fur and Hank howled and hissed, but refused to let go.

                “Jean! Jean if you’re in there at all, I beg you, help us stop her before--!”

                She broke free of his grip, slamming him to the ground. Hank howled as she lashed out at him with deadly force, snapping one of his arms at the wrist, and flinging him to the ground again, ready to snap his neck.

                “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Remy pelted the woman with explosions, which erupted across her body, opening wounds upon her and knocking her away from McCoy, who laid on the ground moaning in pain.

                As the possessed telepath stumbled away, shocked from the blows she had taken, the Cajun rushed her and struck her hard with his staff, sending her to the ground. “Don’t you ever put your hands on--!”

                She reached up a flaming, freezing him in place as she let the fireball build. “I’m so tired of you,”

                “JEAN NO!” Scott shrieked, moving to pull Remy away, but found himself frozen upon approach as well. Indeed, none of them could move, caught in her telekinetic cross hairs.

                “If this is all Mutants are, then I let these weak shells burn away. I will tear this world down and start it again, I will remake you without this chaos, without this madness—as you should be!”

                _SNIKT!_

                “Ahh--!” Jean found her breath stolen as her lungs were pierced by three sharp blades. Her startled eyes looked down to see the bloody claws protruding from her chest. She felt the man behind them shaking uncontrollably.

                All eyes fell upon the pair as they stood there, one impaled upon the other, a thick pool of blood rapidly beginning to form around the exit and entry wounds, slowly dripping down to their feet.

                With a grunt Logan retracted his claws, and caught the woman as she sunk to her knees. “Jean! Jean!”

                The woman looked at him for a moment, her gaze glazed and shocked. But her eyes were green. She opened her mouth to try to speak, but nothing came out but a few gurgled, raspy breaths. But he heard her voice in his head again.

                _“Thank you. Logan, thank you. I’m sorry.”_

                The man whimpered and held her more tightly, as if he could somehow stop the inevitable. But she had already slipped through his fingers.

                The air around them shivered and shook, as the firebird fled it’s deceased host body, leaving them all breathless in its wake.

                The spell was broken. The Phoenix’s influence was gone. Scott cried out and fell forward, grabbing Jean from Wolverine’s arms.  “Jean!? Jean!? Oh God JEAN!” he shook her and cradled her, sobbing and mumbling nonsense, begging for her to be alright.

                Logan sat in shock there on the ground, until Remy’s arms came around him. Storm moved towards Hank, who was barely flirting with consciousness, her eyes drifting from Jean’s body, to Hank’s battered figure and back to her lovers, tears running down her cheeks.

                Bobby attempted to console Scott, putting his hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to release Jean.

                “Scott…Scott, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, she’s gone…come on…come on, we need to go back to the house. We need to get help. Scott, please…”

                Cyclops barely seemed to have heard him, though at Bobby’s insistence he laid Jean’s body upon the ground again. Behind his visor, Scott’s eyes shifted towards Wolverine.

                “You murderer…”

                “Scott, don’t—“

                “ _YOU FUCKING MURDERER!!”_

He scrambled up as if to attack Wolverine, and then fell face first into the grass, as if he had blacked out. Bobby shouted and grabbed him. “Scott!”

                _“My X-Men_ ,”

                It was Charles voice they heard them, speaking to them telepathically. _“I know where you are, help is coming.”_

                Remy hugged Logan hard. “Help is too late.”

 

***

 

                Two days passed in a blur of activity, though the world seemed to move very slowly. Scott felt like he was drifting through the aftermath in a sort of soundless bubble. He was aware of things. He was aware that he had been taking to the infirmary, had his injuries treated and patched. He was aware of the reactions of others, of the fear and confusion and the shock and sorrow.

                He was aware of the Professor, and his apologizes. He was aware of others offering their condolences, asking to help. And he was aware of Jean’s glaring absence. How it felt so cold and empty without her now, knowing that she was not just gone but dead.

                He was aware of all of this, but it was if it was happening outside himself, like he was watching it all through two-way glass. He felt nothing, except for a sort of cold, angry void.

                He couldn’t recognize it, or make sense of it. She had been murdered. Jean had been murdered. And not by some mutant hating terrorist, or some manic supervillain. She had been killed by a man she trusted, a man she was in love with. A man he should have never let get anywhere near her, or him, or any of them.

                The Professor tried to ease his pain. He tried, as any good father figure would, to comfort and console Scott, to give him support in this bleak time. He knew that Xavier felt he had failed his students, that he had failed him, and most of all Jean.

                Scott did nothing to assuage these fears, nor did he desire his former mentor’s help. The X-Men had let one of their own down. They had allowed a monster into their midst and had turned a blind eye to the danger. Had it not been for Wolverine, Jean might not have been overwhelmed by the Phoenix Force, which fed off her repressed desires. She might have been spared.

                He would never know now. All he knew was that he hadn’t been quick enough to see the danger. He hadn’t been forceful enough, determined enough, or strong enough to stop it. Scott blamed himself, nearly as much as he blamed the man whose claws had ended her life.

                As he sat there, alone in his room, tiredly staring at the wall with nothing but these burning thoughts to occupy his already over-tired and over-taxed mind, he heard a small knock on the door.

                “Scott?”

                It opened, and a familiar tall figure stepped in. “Desole, don’t mean to intrude. Professor ask if I would check in on you.”

                Scott turned his head towards the sound of Remy’s voice, registering his surroundings for the first time that day. “Oh,” he mumbled, voice thick and cracked from ill use and too much crying over the last 36 hours. “Remy…how are you?”

                “Better den you look, mon ami.” The auburn haired man replied. He moved a little closer to Scott, but kept his distance. “Why don’t you come on out, have a bite to eat, get some fresh air?”

                Scott stared at him for a bit then looked back out the window blankly. “No thanks. I’m tired.”

                Remy looked at him worriedly and then edged a little closer. “I know you probably just want to be alone right now. I respect dat. But dis pain you feelin’…ya can drown in it if you’re not careful. Don’t t’ink dis team could stand to lose anyone else.”

                He touched Scott’s shoulder lightly. “I’m here, if you need me. If you want to talk. Alright?”

                To Remy’s surprise, the other man pressed his hand over his and tangled their fingers for a moment. “Thank you, Remy.”

                Gambit nodded, then turned back towards the door. Scott watched him for a moment, then added, “You aren’t still staying with Wolverine are you?”

                Remy stilled for a moment, “Of course I am.”

                “After what you watched him do?”

                Gambit sighed. “We all hurtin’, mon ami. Him too, whether ya want to believe it or not. I know you can’t forgive him right now. Dat’s fine. Take your time, heal. And come find me when you ready.” He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Scott alone.

                He waited until he heard the other man's footsteps fade, then looked bleakly out the window again. Healing seemed...impossible. He didn't even know where to start. Healing suggested there was something left to salvage, but he wasn't sure that was true. He needed to find a way to start over, but how could he possibly begin? He looked around the room, and then slowly stood and reached for his keys and his jacket.

               The first order of business was to get the hell of Westchester.

 

***

Fini

 

 


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